


Flame Nexus

by Madrigal_in_training



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: BAMF Iemitsu, BAMF Sawada Nana, BAMF Sawada Tsunayoshi, Child Sawada Tsunayoshi, Everyone Loves Tsuna, F/M, Female Sawada Tsunayoshi, Iemitsu is a good parent, Nana knows the truth, Tsuna is Not Dame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 09:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12105924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madrigal_in_training/pseuds/Madrigal_in_training
Summary: A more calculating Iemitsu realizes that Xanxus’ rage and illegitimacy would leave the perfect opening for a new power to assume control of the Vongola. And who better to take the position of Decimo than his own daughter: Sawada Tsunami? fem!Tsuna





	1. Chapter 1

If there was one matter on which Iemitsu Sawada refused to be questioned, it was on his love for his family. The Young Lion of Vongola knew, without any shred of doubt, that he adored his civilian wife and newborn daughter, and originally had every intention to keep them out of the seedy underworld of the Mafia. The ruthless violence, heedless betrayals, and shameless lies had no place in his darling Nana’s life, and even less in the adorable amber-brown eyes of his little Tsunami. 

 

Iemitsu knew that his own heritage and position prevented him from ever leaving the Mafia, but through a combination of acute discretion and careful misdirection, he prevented any threats from being directed towards his own family. Only a few members of Vongola’s top brass, and a handful of his own trusted subordinates, even knew Iemitsu had a wife, much less a child. It was unfortunate that this kept Iemitsu from employing vacation time often, and he was forced to watch his daughter grow from afar, but the Head of CEDEF was content. His family was safe, and through his own efforts in his high-ranked position, would have no concerns, in matters of security or finance. 

 

That would have been enough, but for the actions of one Xanxus Vongola.

 

Despite his uncanny resemblance to the Secendo, Iemitsu knew that the dark teen was the bastard son of a mentally-ill prostitute in Trapani and an unknown man descended from the Secondo’s matrilineal lineage. He was a talented young man, but his lack of Vongola blood and untamed rage would prevent him from ever assuming his father’s position. Iemitsu was not as concerned with keeping the power within the family as many other members of the Mafia, but he knew the Vongola rings were designed to respond only to those with Primo’s blood. 

 

There were currently four candidates for the Decimo position: Enrico, Massimo, and Frederico Vongola, and Tsunami Sawada.

 

The last candidate should not even be a consideration, for Iemitsu had carefully erased all documentation of his daughter’s existence from Mafia files, but for the actions of Xanxus. The boy had made no secret of the fact that he intended to become Decimo, and his talent and ruthlessness had garnered him no small amount of allies from people who did not know of his heritage. Many of the leaders of Vongola’s subdivisions though were more careful to pledge support, especially as rumors continued to circulate as to the youngest’s paternity. Xanxus had even come by to solicit Iemitsu’s endorsement, but had been soundly rebuffed.

 

Iemitsu favored the eldest, and most cautious, of Nono’s sons, Enrico, for the Decimo position. 

 

Enrico Vongola had been the most popular candidate for the Vongola position, at least up until yesterday, when his bullet-ridden corpse had been delivered to Timoteo’s front door. 

 

Iemitsu pitied the older man- no father should have to outlive their own child- but quickly moved the CEDEF to take action. One of his most trusted officers, Lal Mirch, identified the bullet holes as the curved half-teardrop cut made by bullets commonly used by the Varia. Those bullets gained additional speed and piercing power in exchange for loss of control and being easily wind-influenced. They also painted a grim picture: Enrico Vongola was killed by either the Varia or a famiglia capable of securing the unique bullets and being skilled enough to employ them.

 

Iemitsu was not a betting man, but his suspicions lied with the former suspicion. Xanxus controlled the independent elite assassination squad, bullets were his favored weapon, and he still operated under the belief that he was a candidate for succession. The Head of CEDEF naturally shared this suspicion with Nono, advising the man to detain Xanxus for treason, or, at the very least, tell him about his adopted status.

 

However, Nono adamantly refused to believe that one of his sons died at the hands of the other, and forbid Iemitsu’s from continuing an investigation in that direction. The laws of the Vongola forbid Iemitsu from acting otherwise- in times of peace, the CEDEF’s power was very limited- and the blonde man reluctantly agreed. He tried to press for his other request, and Nono agreed to consider it, but Iemitsu knew that Xanxus wouldn’t be finding out about his true heritage any time soon.

 

This left the blonde man in a conundrum. Xanxus was dangerous to the famiglia, no question about it, but Iemitsu’s hands were tied on the matter. He could draw the attention of other influential mafia, such as Reborn, but even the hitman wouldn’t get through to Nono in his grieving state, and also, Iemitsu really disliked the smug baby. That meant the angry Sky could continue to plot his way to a power he could never have, and may escalate to attacking the other heirs.

 

Massimo and Frederico weren’t untalented by any means, but Iemitsu knew that Xanxus could beat either or both of them, hands down. The only other candidate was his beautiful Tsunami, but Xanxus didn’t even know she existed. And if the impetuous upstart showed any indication of attacking his three-year-old daughter, than Iemitsu would show him what a  _ real  _ Sky can do, Vongola bedamned. 

 

Still, if Enrico, Massimo, and Federico were all cut down, one by one, than Nono’s branch of the family could no longer hold onto the position. The Head of CEDEF couldn’t transition to the Vongola Decimo role, but any of his children would be eligible. And currently the only child Iemitsu had was Tsunami.

 

A thoughtful frown crossed Iemitsu’s face, as he considered the situation. He still had no desire to draw his daughter into the Mafia world, but if Xanxus continued on this route, Iemitsu might just not have a choice. Nono would press for Tsuna-chan to be trained, by the dreaded Reborn probably, and she would be thrown into a position that she was utterly unprepared for. The Mafia world was unforgiving to the uninitiated and damning to women, though Tsuna-chan could thankfully escape becoming a trophy wife. The manner by which the rings bonded to their owners, made Iemitsu sure that Tsunami would not be relegated to the position of figurehead should she become Decimo.

 

Yes, Iemitsu could read the current of politics, and his daughter’s ascension to power was a very likely possibility. A smile tugged at his mouth as Iemitsu considered his little Tsunami-chan at the Head of the Vongola Famiglia. Sure, he would rather his Princess avoid the Mafia entirely, but if she  _ had _ to join, than Tsunami could do no better than the top position of the most influential underground family in the Western Hemisphere, if not the world.

 

As her father, Iemitsu could do no less than to prepare the way for her eventual rise to power.

 

The first matter would be to introduce his darling daughter to Nono, so that she could be accepted as a possible, if minor, candidate for the Decimo position. 

 

“Turmeric,” the Head of CEDEF called, pressing the button for the office address system, “Please come to the office.”

 

“Yes, Boss?” the suited man with the short brown hair asked, once he arrived. 

 

Iemitsu stapled his fingers together. “I need to arrange for some vacation time next week, along with travel arrangements to Naminori. Keep the usual secrecy arrangements in place.”

 

Turmeric’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir! Er… should I purchase any gifts, sir?”

 

A bright smile crossed his Boss’s face. “Of course! The usual sweets and pastries, a new bouncy ball, and I think she likes to do art now? Yes, buy a full set of paints, some sketchbooks, color pencils, and maybe play-doh too. Make sure they’re easily washable too. And stop buying scary stuffed animals!”

 

‘ _ The stuffed dragon wasn’t that scary,’  _ Turmeric sulked. Aloud, he said, “Yes, sir.”

 

“I already have the jewelry placed in Safe Box #6, so wrap those up for me, and find some cookbooks on French pastries,” Iemitsu added, “And make sure that fresh camellias are available for me at the Tokyo landing. Pick a bouquet with red, white, and yellow flowers. Get a smaller bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums; I think Tsuna-chan will like those.”

 

Turmeric nodded obediently. “Anything else, sir?” His jaw almost dropped at his Boss’s answer.

 

“Send a request to the Ninth of see if he would like to come along,” Iemitsu said cheerfully, “I think he might enjoy my wife’s cooking.”

 

xxxxxxxx


	2. Chapter 2

Iemitsu was brimming with pride, as he saw his little Tuna-fish charm Nono with her adorable child’s lisp and kind-hearted innocence. Amber-brown eyes widened with awe and a child’s simple adoration as the old man talked of the First Generation, of Primo’s steadfast determination to protect his family, and how a group of friends came together to champion the poor and innocent. 

 

“He’s a hewo!” Tsunami declared, enthusiastically clapping her hands. “I’m goin’ to be just wike him!”

 

Nono laughed. “You’ve picked an excellent man to model yourself after then, dear.”

 

The two continued talking in the living room, under the watch of Iemitsu’s contented gaze. Nana leaned over his back, to rest her head on her shoulder. Her silky brown hair rested against his neck, bringing the faint scent of sakura blossoms. 

 

“Isn’t Tsu-chan doing so well?” Nana said quietly, maternal pride evident in her tone.

 

“Only because she inherited her mother’s poise and beauty,” Iemitsu immediately replied, sending his wife a loving smile. The brunette giggled, allowing him to turn around and draw her into his arms. “I missed you.”

 

“I missed you too,” Nana covered her face into his shoulder. Her next words came out muffled. “Wish you were here more.”

 

“I need to leave for work,” Iemitsu answered regretfully, “I’m sorry.”

 

Nana’s smaller hands enveloped one of his own calloused ones. “I know. Thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful, and the meaning even more so.”

 

A slightly forced smile crossed her husband’s face. “They made a valiant attempt to match the woman to whom they were bequeathed.” 

 

The tense moment passed, and Iemitsu enjoyed the remainder of his weeklong visit to Naminori. Tsunami-chan was a happy child, and, by nature, was easy to please. Her messy finger paintings, even the one that used one of Iemitsu’s expensive Italian suits as a canvass, were heartily praised by her father, and she spent countless hours rolling around on her bouncy ball, rather than use it the way it was designed. Nana’s cooking was delicious, and heartily praised by both men in the house. Although the woman was clearly flattered to have earned the good opinion of her husband’s Boss, it was Tsuna-chan’s compliment that took precedence.

 

“Mama’s cooking is best!” the almost four-year-old said firmly. None could disagree with such determination.

 

On the final day of his trip, Iemitsu witnessed a sight that only strengthened his decision.

 

“Mama! Papa!” the terrified child’s wail made Iemitsu jump out of his seat and run outside. Tsunami had been sent outside to continue abusing her new ball, and she was there now, clinging desperately to a creaking tree branch. Iemitsu spared no thought to how his clumsy, unathletic daughter had managed to scrabble up there, as there was a furiously barking Chihuahua below her. Suddenly, the weighed branch snapped, and his daughter was tumbling down with a horrified scream.

 

“Tsuna!” Iemitsu’s eyes glowed with orange flames, and his speed tripled as the man jerked forward. But, no, it wasn’t necessary, because-

 

-Tsuna’s forehead erupted with an orange flame, spreading, spreading,  _ spreading  _ until his little one was covered in a cloak of flickering flames, until she was tumbling on the ground, bouncing over the soil, and landing stunned, but unharmed. And a second later, her body was drawn up again, as the strong, reassuring arms of her father encircled her, flames dancing merrily over his tanned skin, but leaving behind not a single blemish. Amber-brown eyes peeked upwards, shock on her face.

 

“Papa, you’re on fiwe,” Tsuna pointed out, one hand resting on his rough cheek, “Pwetty!”

 

Iemitsu chuckled. “So, I am, Tuna-fish. And you have fire too.”

 

Tsunami looked down, delighted to see orange flames covered her own arms. “I do!”

 

“Yes, but you have to stop using them for a moment,” Iemitsu continued, ignoring his wife’s gaping mouth and Nono’s impressed, and contemplative, gaze, “Papa’s going to put them away, okay?”

 

Tsunami pouted- unhappy to lose the pretty flames- but nodded. Iemitsu placed a reassuring hand on her temple, and coaxed the flames back inside her. He didn’t seal them away, but pushed them down to their passive form. Once the flames were cut off, Tsunami realized just how exhausted her body was, and promptly fell into unconsciousness. 

 

“She’s just tired,” Iemitsu said, answering the question in his wife’s concerned eyes, “Those flames really tuckered our Tuna-fish out.” He handed the sleeping form over to Nana, who accepted Tsunami with a relieved sigh.

 

“You have some questions to answer, Iemitsu,” Nana stated, sternly. 

 

Slightly cowed, her husband nodded. “I know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Later? I promise.”

 

Her wife’s customary cheerful smile crossed her face at that, though it still had hints of her worry from before. Once she had gone inside with Tsunami, giving a curious look to his Boss beforehand, Iemitsu turned to face Nono.

 

“Do you intend to seal Tsunami-chan’s flames away?” Nono asked, going straight to the heart of the matter.

 

Iemitsu shook his head. “No, if I seal them now, then she’ll have difficulties using them in the future,” he answered.

 

The old man sighed. “Your daughter is delightful, Iemitsu, but there are two other candidates for the Decimo position,” he warned. 

 

“I know, and there’s nothing I would love more than for Tsunami-chan to avoid the Mafia entirely,” Iemitsu answered honestly, “But with her talent, and my position, that’s unlikely to happen. I don’t want to cripple my daughter’s chances for a happy life, before she even started in the Mafia.”

 

Nono nodded. “And how do you plan to control those Flames? They can have harmful effects to children.”

 

“Sealing it can be even more harmful,” Iemitsu mused, “But as long as she’s not in any danger, her flames should stay in their passive form. And if I enroll her in some physical classes, she can build self-defense skills and focus her flames on developing those skills.”

 

“Do you intend to groom her for your position, then?” Nono questioned.

 

“Maybe,” Iemitsu shrugged. He had a better candidate for the CEDEF in mind, an observant  seven-year-old child belonging to one of his operatives, but Tsunami was also a viable candidate. “Still, I should like to request an additional week of vacation time.”

 

“I can’t spare you for any more than three days,” Nono said, making the blonde man inwardly frown, “I wish you luck in Tsunami’s lessons, Iemitsu, but make no mistake. I shall not accept a play for the Decimo position.”

 

“As long as there are other viable candidates, Tsunami-chan will not seek to succeed you,” Iemitsu promised, “And on my position as Head of CEDEF, I swear that I won’t interfere with your sons’ successions.”

 

‘ _ If only because Xanxus will do it for me, _ ’ Iemitsu mentally added, ‘ _ I wish that you would reign your youngest son in, Nono. But if you do not, than there’s no reason why my family and I should not profit off your foolishness.’ _

 

xxxxxxxx

 

_ A bit ruthless from Iemitsu, don’t you think? But one cannot be the head of a major intelligence operation in the world of international criminals, without being a little ruthless themselves. And you can see that Iemitsu’s slowly transitioning from reluctantly preparing Tsunami for Decimo, because that’s what she’s most likely going to be forced into, to genuinely wanting his daughter to assume that powerful position. He’ll be far more involved in Tsunami’s education that in canon, even if he has to monitor her studies from abroad.  _


	3. Chapter 3

Iemitsu Sawada was the leader of one of the world’s largest intelligence organizations, with almost 800 capable, loyal operatives to his name. In any given day, he had access to more secret data than most world governments, and his orders could destroy entire famiglias. Independently, he was a powerful Sky Flame User, who had gained the title of Young Lion of Vongola for his battle prowess, and could even utilize weaker strains of every other flame type through Sky’s Harmony nature. Even his appearance was that of a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular man with keen steel grey eyes.

 

None of those things mattered, when his wife greeted him, with slender arms crossed and amber-brown eyes narrowed.

 

“Husband, would you care to explain why our daughter  _ was on fire _ ?” Nana asked, strengthening her glare. In all honesty, his wife’s appearance did not give itself easily to intimidation, and even her angriest faces only conveyed mild dismay. Then again, she didn’t really need to convey much more for Iemitsu to immediately feel like scum on Earth.

 

“It’s a very long story, sweetheart,” Iemitsu replied, halfheartedly, “Er… where is our Tuna-fish?”

 

“I put her down to nap,” Nana informed him, eyes flickering just over his shoulder, “Mr. Vongola, may I get you a drink?”

 

“No, thank you, dear,” Timoteo said kindly. “I believe I may also do with a nap. Please excuse me.”

 

‘ _ Traitor, _ ’ Iemitsu thought, as the old man walked up to the guestroom. Now that Nana wasn’t distracted by her hostess duties, she could focus all of her attention on her nervously sweating husband.

 

“You should sit down, darling,” the blonde man sighed, plopping down on the sofa. “The first thing you should know is that those flames did not hurt Tsu-chan  _ at all _ . I promise. They’re perfectly natural, and something that all humans are born with. Some people just have more of it than others, and, though you don’t have anything to compare it to, I can tell you that our daughter has a lot.”

 

He couldn’t hide the smugness in his voice, as he continued. “She’s just like her Papa, Nana-chan!”

 

The brown-haired woman nodded, and considered his words carefully. As the silence stretched on, Iemitsu couldn’t help but feel nervous. Briefly, the thought flitted to his mind to utilize his flames, and employ the Harmony attribute to Nana to make her  _ pliable _ , bend her will easily to his own. He could force her to dismiss her concerns, fall under his thrall, agree with his words… This was the intrinsic power of Sky Flames, and one that all users had to struggle not to abuse. It was simply so easy to do.

 

The thought hovered for not even a second, before Iemitsu inwardly recoiled in disgust. No, he would not charm his own wife- at least, not with the unfair power of his flames- and bend her to her will. Iemitsu knew a few men and women in the mafia that employed this on their own partners, and considered it to be utterly disgusting. To manipulate one’s loved ones so ruthlessly, treat them like empty dolls lacking independent thought, was something Iemitsu swore he would never accept. 

 

The man’s decision had only been cemented when he met a pretty brunette waitress with a smile that glowed with a warmth that lit up his world.

 

His thoughts were broken up, when Nana asked the last question he would have expected.

 

“Do I have flames too?” Nana said sweetly.

 

The baffled look on Iemitsu’s face was priceless. “Y-you want to unlock your flames?!”

 

Nana nodded seriously. “Iemitsu-kun and Tsu-chan both have flame powers,” she pouted, “I want to have orange flames as well.”

 

Shock broke away to amusement, and Iemitsu threw his head back and laughed. “Haha, I should have known my wife would go that route! Nana, sweetheart, please don’t ever change.”

 

“Iemitsu-kun,” Nana reminded exasperatedly, “You didn’t answer me.”

 

Iemitsu leaned over, and took Nana’s smooth hands into his own. His tanned hands nearly engulfed her own. “Nana, dear, there are many types of flames. Tsu-chan and I have Sky flames- the orange ones. There are also blue Rain flames, red Storm flames, yellow Sun flames, green Lightning flames, purple Cloud flames, and indigo Mist flames. They all fall under the banner of Dying Will Flames of the Sky.”

 

Nana nodded, committing this to her mind. “Iemitsu-kun has Sky Flames,” she pointed out, “And all the others are subsets of the Flames of the Sky, yes? Are Iemitsu-kun’s flames the strongest?”

 

The blonde nodded, smiling fondly at his wife’s quick deduction. 

 

“That’s wonderful, Iemitsu-kun!” Nana cheered. “Why are they the strongest though? And why do people have different coloured flames?”

 

“The Sky Flames symbolize Harmony, which means they’re actually all of the different types of flames balanced together,” Iemitsu explained, “It’s the rarest of the flames, because it allows the users to employ all of the other flames on the spectrum, though with less power than someone who uses the flame as their primary one. Each flame has its own special power- I have a brochure for that, actually, and I’ll give it to you in a second. The flames correspond to one’s personality and values; most Sky users are charismatic, accepting, and protective of their loved ones.”

 

The brunette grinned. “That describes you perfectly!”

 

Iemitsu ignored his wife’s giggling at the blush on his cheeks, as he sheepishly shrugged. “Thank you, darling. But you also need to know that flames are tied to one’s self-will, and usually appear when someone is in life-threatening danger. This draws on their dying will’s determination, and turns the flames active.”

 

Nana gasped. “But then,” her eyes filled with tears, “Our Tsu-chan was in  _ life-threatening danger  _ today, Iemitsu-kun!” 

 

Iemitsu’s happiness faded away, as a grim frown graced his face. “Yes, and we’re very lucky that she was strong enough to activate her flames,” he answered.

 

“Then these flames… they’ll protect Tsu-chan?” Nana asked hopefully.

 

“Sweetheart, what happened here today should not have occurred,” her husband explained gently, “My family has strong flames, but we don’t activate them until we’re much older. At this age, it can be dangerous to employ those energies. Tsu-chan only had them active for a few minutes, and you could see how tired it made her afterward.”

 

“Oh, but then how do we keep her from using them again?” His wife replied promptly.

 

“I’ll speak to her,” Iemitsu said, reassuringly, “They’ve been awakened, but they’ll stay in passive form unless her life’s in danger. We can sign her up for martial arts lessons to redirect her excess energy. And since Naminori is one of the safest places in Japan, she shouldn’t need to activate them.”   
  


Seeing that Nana was less worried, Iemitsu stood up.

 

“Still, even with the circumstances, we should be very proud that Tsuna’s flame-active at such a young age,” Iemitsu said brightly, “And it must be due to her Papa’s wonderful genes, too! I think I’ll reward myself with another serving of your wonderful mochi ice cream.”

 

“Not yet, Husband,” Nana chided, “I still have questions for you to answer. We can begin with why your Boss- who’s supposed to be the President of a construction firm- didn’t look surprised when our daughter burst into fire. Then we can talk about this family heritage of superpowers, you have. Or why a brochure of special flames that I’ve never heard of before exists.”

 

Cocking her head to the side, she added, “And you haven’t even told me my flame type yet!”

 

Iemitsu cringed. Damn, and he had hoped his darling Nana wouldn’t question those inconsistencies.

 

_ ‘Wait for me, mochi ice cream, _ ’ he sobbed inwardly, catching the glint in Nana’s eyes,  _ ‘This is going to take a lot longer than I thought.’ _

 

xxxxxxxxx

 

Iemitsu was internally sulking as he entered his daughter’s room. In his hands was a tall, chilled glass filled with a rejuvenating green tea smoothie meant for Tsu-chan. Iemitsu had asked for one too, but Nana claimed that she didn’t have enough ingredients on hand for two. The blonde figured that this was her passive-aggressive retaliation for essentially lying about their occupation since they first met.

 

‘ _ Maybe, my Tuna-fish will want to share with her beloved Papa, _ ’ Iemitsu considered, wistfully.  

 

Regardless, of his lack of treats, a wide smile crossed the half-Italian’s face when he saw the tiny, birdlike limbs of a skinny three-year-old splayed out on the bed. Her shy nature may have one assume that she would curl inward, but Tsu-chan was a bed hogger of the highest degree. Her arms were stretched out fully under the sheets, as though embracing the bed to the full extent of her ability.

 

“Tsu-chan, wake up,” Iemitsu tried to moderate his voice, but it still came out slightly too loud, “Mama made a smoothie for you.”

 

It took a few more words, but slowly his baby girl’s eyes fluttered open. She blearily blinked up at him, recognition entering amber-brown orbs. “Papa,” Tsunami said happily, one arm raising, “Up!”

 

Iemitsu dutifully scooped her up with one arm, before sitting down on the bed. Tsunami cuddled into his chest, and sleepily accepted the chilled glass.

 

“Papa, Tsu-chan had a good dweam,” Tsunami informed, “Tsu-chan had pwetty flames, and Papa had pwetty flames too. They made Tsu-chan fly!”

 

Iemitsu chuckled. “That wasn’t a dream, Tsu-chan.”

 

Amber-brown eyes gazed up imploringly. “Papa, Tsu-chan can really fly?”

 

“Yes, but Tsu-chan can’t use the flames yet,” the blonde man tried not to grin at the child’s immediate pout, “Tsu-chan can use them when she’s a big girl. Papa will teach her!”

 

Tsunami considered those words carefully. “As big as Mama?” she asked suspiciously.

 

Her Papa shook his head. “No, Tsu-chan. We’ll wait a few more years, but not until you’re as old as Mama.”

 

The girl with the fluffy brown hair sighed in relief. “Good,” she said, “Mama’s old!”

 

Iemitsu sweatdropped. “Maybe Tsu-chan shouldn’t say that in front of Mama?”

 

After the little girl nodded, he continued. “Now, does Tsu-chan remember the stories Nono told her?”

 

“The one ‘bout Gi-o-too,” she asked, stumbling around the word. “He was the hewo!”

 

“Yes, he was,” Iemitsu agreed wholeheartedly, “Giotto was a big hero in Italy, but when he was done being a hero, he left. He came to Japan and had a family, with a little boy, who had a little boy, who had a little boy, who had Papa’s Papa! Each of the little boy’s had special orange flames, like the one you saw Papa use. And you can use them too.”

 

“Woah,” Tsunami breathed in awe, “And Tsu-chan got her pwetty flames fwom Papa?”

 

“From Papa,  _ and Mama, _ ” Iemitsu corrected, and wasn’t that just more proof of how powerful his daughter would be someday? The people who knew about his marriage- especially, Reborn- may have thought he was crazy for marrying a foreign civilian, but  _ his _ wife had the rare Sky Flames too! Now who was the one laughing?

 

‘ _ Probably still Reborn,’ _ the man conceded grumpily,  _ ‘Since I’ve been put in the metaphorical dog house by that same civilian woman.’ _

 

“Mama had flames too?” Tsunami asked, “Tsu-chan neveh saw them.”

 

“You can only see the flames when you’re really,  _ really  _ scared, Tsu-chan,” Iemitsu explained, “Mama never had to use her flames, so you never saw them. This is why you can’t use those flames yet, Tsu-chan. You have to be really,  _ really  _ scared to use them as a kid. It’ll be easier when you’re bigger.” 

 

Tsunami recalled the razor-sharp teeth of that big, scary dog (it may have been a Chihuahua, but it scared her!), and  _ fallingfallingfalling _ from the tree, and shivered. She didn’t want to feel that again!

 

“I won’t, Papa,” she promised, “But they were really pwetty. Do other pweople have them?” 

 

“Orange flames are called Sky Flames, Tsu-chan, and no, not many people have them,” Iemitsu informed her, proudly, “They can have other flames though, and Papa will teach you all about them. First though, why don’t you have a drink of your smoothie? It’s Mama’s special recipe.”

 

Tsunami took a sip of the green tea smoothie, and hummed happily at the light but sharp taste on her tongue. She noticed her Papa stare intently at her while she drank, but then felt a nudge inside her that told her to look down. Huh, her Papa was staring at the drink.

 

“Papa, do you wanna share?” Tsunami asked, holding the glass up. Iemitsu nodded hurriedly, and Tsunami giggled. Her Papa could be so silly, sometimes.

 

xxxxxxxx

 

Iemitsu had only three additional days left of his vacation time, so rather than laze about the house in his underwear with a bottle of sake in his hand- it may be undignified, but he was in a stressful profession that rarely allowed this level of relaxation- he got to work. Luckily, Nana was not the type of woman to hold grudges, and by the time they were waving the Ninth off on his plane, she had forgiven him. She knew that the secretive nature of his job meant that he could share little actual work information, but admitted that knowing the little she did, made her far more at ease.

 

Apparently the checks he was sending home were far larger than what a simple construction worker made. Nana had assumed he had been promoted to Manager, and was too humble to brag about it. Iemitsu was embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t even considered the matter. 

 

Leaving his wife and daughter at home- baking cookies together! so cute!- Iemitsu headed on his way. There were three reputable dojos for beginners in Naminori, which may seem excessive for such a small town, but was explained by the fact that this town was mostly a retirement home for ex-mafia. Rather than go to any of those establishments, Iemitsu headed towards the sushi shop.

 

The sound of ringing bells caused the proprietor of TakeSushi to look up. The welcoming smile on his face faded a little as he looked at the Young Lion of Vongola. 

 

Iemitsu raised both hands in front of him, noting that the shop was empty at this early hour. “Peace. I mean you, and your son, no harm.”

 

The famed assassin, Tsuyoshi Yamamoto, relaxed, but didn’t let go of the chopping knife in his hand. “What reason do I have to be honored with a visit by the Head of the External Advisers of Vongola?”

 

“Couldn’t I have a morning craving for top-notch sushi?” Iemitsu joked. At the unamused look on the other man’s face, he sighed. “I would like to commission you for a job.”

 

“I’m retired,” Tsuyoshi replied, sharply. “Not that people seem to understand that anymore.”

 

Iemitsu cringed. “...I’m sorry for your wife’s death.”

 

The sushi chef looked away. “Speak honestly, Vongola. She was murdered.”

 

“Yes, and now your safety has been compromised,” the blonde man stated.

 

Tsuyoshi’s gaze was just as sharp as his infamous blade. “He regretted his decision,” he hissed, “A dead man tells no tales, Sawada.”

 

“If one man can find you, then so can others,” Iemitsu countered, “Did I not find you?”

 

“Most men haven’t the resources of CEDEF behind them,” the assassin said dryly.

 

“No,” Iemitsu agreed, “I have many resources on hand. For example, my wife and daughter are being protected by some of the best security- digital and physical- that a man of my means can offer. That protection can easily extend to protect you and yours, Tsuyoshi.”

 

“I can protect my son!” Tsuyoshi’s reply was heated, as his secondary Cloud attribute rose to the surface. Clouds had always reacted poorly to insinuations of weakness or inability.

 

“The way you protected your wife,” Iemitsu said softly, mercilessly. Eyes glowed orange, as the blonde man gracefully dodged the suddenly thrown knife. It flew less than four centimeters past him, before burying itself into the wall behind him, to the hilt. Iemitsu could feel the whiplash of the wind against his cheek. 

 

“That was a low blow,” Tsuyoshi’s shoulders shook, and an observant man could see the light glossy sheen in his eyes. Iemitsu felt some regret, but not enough to allow the expression to be present on his face. He waited patiently for the assassin to recollect himself, keeping one eye on the other knife.

 

Finally, Tsuyoshi looked up. His face appeared years older than before, but the set of his jaw was determined. “I need to arrange for someone to look after my son, but then I can take on your case. Who do you need me to kill?”

 

One blonde brow raised. “And what makes you think that I have need of an assassin?”

 

Tsuyoshi furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about now, Sawada?”

 

“I apologize for misleading you, but I needed to know how determined you were to secure protection for your son,” Iemitsu replied, “No, I have enough assassins in my employ. I want a tutor for my daughter.”

 

Tsuyoshi stared at him, for a few long, hard minutes. Iemitsu didn’t show any reaction, even when he tossed his head back and barked out a laugh. “You’re trying to trick me again!”

 

“I assure you, I do need a tutor for my daughter,” Iemitsu answered smoothly.

 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” the sushi chef shook his head, bemused, “You’ll have my services as a tutor, and even as an impromptu bodyguard, but those are just side benefits, aren’t they? You’re a powerful Sky, and I’m willing to bet that your daughter will be one too. You want my son to bond to her.”

 

‘ _ Smart man,’  _ Iemitsu thought, feeling even happier with his choice, ‘ _ Let’s see, if little Yamamoto inherited that too.’ _

 

“Your son has strong, if inactive, Rain flames,” the Sawada admitted.

 

Tsuyoshi frowned. “You make it sound like your daughter activated her-  _ no. _ ”

 

Iemitsu offered him a smug smirk. “My Tsu-chan is very talented, and she deserves only the best Guardians too. I would like to see if your son has what it takes to be one of them.”

 

“When I retired, I swore that Takeshi wouldn’t follow in my footsteps,” Tsuyoshi sighed, “The life of an independent assassin is a hard one, but… your daughter will have a high position in the Vongola? Her flames are strong enough to have a full set of Guardians, aren’t they?”

 

The man hesitated, and added. “Do you plan to groom her to take your position?”

 

“Tsunami will reach whichever position her talent and drives pushes her too,” was the cryptic reply.

 

“As long as your son lives, your reputation will follow him around, “ Iemitsu pressed on, “He may be in minimal danger while in Naminori, but if he doesn’t get some training in, then he’ll be a walking corpse in the outside world. Even if your son doesn’t bond with Tsu-chan, he can benefit from joining her training, and falling under my protection. If he wants a civilian life as an adult, then I’ll arrange for an entirely new identity for him, with full documentation. And I will not press him into service. You have my word.”

 

A small smile crossed the retired assassin’s face. “Let’s not pretend that you expect anything other than a full bonding between Takeshi and Tsunami, Sawada. However, your offer is… incredibly generous, and I would be a fool to give it up. I accept.”

 

A beaming smile crossed the blond man’s face, and he reached out a hand. “Excellent! Then let’s shake to a prosperous, mutually-beneficial partnership!”  

 

Tsuyoshi solemnly shook Iemitsu’s hand, and then, because the man had had the nerve to bring up Miko-chan’s death, added. “You know, Sawada, most Sky marriages occur between a Sky and his or her Guardian. My Takeshi is a good-looking boy, and your Tsunami is a lovely girl, so this business deal might just become a family affair, someday!”

 

His words made the Young Lion of Vongola blanch white. “Over my dead body!”

 

xxxxxxx


	4. Chapter 4

When Iemitsu finally entered the cab to the Narita International Airport- after much constrictive hugging and tearful kisses- he felt a measure of satisfaction. His Tsu-chan’s young age kept him from enrolling her into too many classes, so chose the two most important ones. One slot was filled by Tsuyoshi’s lessons, while the other choice was more intensive English lessons. The reason Iemitsu chose English was that, despite the mafia originating from Italy, the main language of the criminal underworld was the business language of the world: English. It had many benefits, including an additional, minor security measure as many Italian civilians wouldn’t understand the officers speaking in the foreign language. 

 

He had also found an excellent gymnastics class, but had opted to enroll his daughter next year. The additional flexibility, stamina, and pain tolerance that Tsu-chan’s gender afforded her, were advantages that were not to be ignored.

 

The next order of business was to complete his promise to Tsuyoshi, and arrange for the Yamamoto family to fall under top-notch CEDEF protection. His agents had made minor alterations to Takeshi Yamamoto’s national school profile, and added misdirecting links to any other data. Much to his dismay, Iemitsu’s favored candidate for Tsu-chan’s Rain Guardian was as disgustingly adorable as his father claimed.

 

Iemitsu was of two minds about arranging a meeting between the two kids. On one hand, the selection of a Guardian was a deeply personal matter for any Sky, and Iemitsu was essentially inviting himself into the selection process by tossing Tsuyoshi’s son in her path. On the other hand, they likely would have met anyway, and Iemitsu was really just giving his adorable little girl an additional advantage by forcing them to spend long amounts of time together. Besides, the lonely Rain may not even Harmonize with Tsu-chan.

 

Though, in Iemitsu’s totally objective opinion, the little Yamamoto would be crazy if he didn’t do so.

 

The Head of CEDEF had come to the decision that Tsu-chan was already at a disadvantage by being in sleepy Naminori, rather than among the hotbed of flame-actives in Italy. If her father were to find promising, unaligned subordinates, and send them in her direction, than he was really just evening the playing field. It would still be up to Tsunami to initiate and complete the Harmony process through her own merits, and she may even stumble across a few Guardians by her own initiative. 

 

Having resolved thus, Iemitsu moved onto other pressing concerns. In the next matter, Nana’s understanding of his career was very beneficial. Now that the blond had resolved to promote his daughter’s candidacy to Decimo- pending the deaths of the other heirs, as he had promised Nono- Iemitsu would take steps to prepare her for the role. Her lessons were basic for now, but may gather attention later on, and thus, the Sawada family needed greater defenses.

 

Thankfully, now that Nana knew, Iemitsu could introduce her to several of his trusted subordinates, and pass on security codes, locations for safe houses, and fake documentation. His wife was less anxious by these measures than he had thought she would be, and merely expressed her gratefulness for the steps Iemitsu took.

 

When the blond questioned her easy acceptance, Nana explained that these defenses had always been present, just under her sight, and since they were never attacked, they must have worked. She had decided to trust her husband on their family’s safety, which touched his heart.

 

Being in Naminori was both a blessing and a curse for the Sawadas. It kept Tsu-chan out of the public eye, gave her safety in anonymity, and allowed her to get stronger in a gradual, healthy way. 

 

(Iemitsu was a big believer in his daughter  _ not _ having a trial by fire). 

 

Unfortunately, a con was that anonymity meant that Iemitsu could rarely visit (because he couldn’t justify taking so many vacations as a single man). Also, since the members of Vongola didn’t know about the existence of his darling Tsu-chan meant that they couldn’t work with her, observe her growth, and come to a decision on whether or not they would support her ascension. Being the only heir to Vongola may allow her to take the position without direct opposition, but she would still be looked on by the inclusive famiglia as an outsider. And Iemitsu knew that running an organization as large as the Vongola could become very difficult if she didn’t have some camaraderie or trust with the mid-level management or their allied famiglias.

 

One way to address this is to be so obviously competent, that many officers would support her due to sheer respect. His Tsu-chan will have to develop many skills for that, but the most self-evident would be a full component of Guardians, which Iemitsu already took steps to secure. Another way would be to gain the endorsement of one well-respected individual. She had obviously secured that from the Head of CEDEF, and should Iemitsu gather even more support and power, he could pass that influence onto his own daughter.

 

Best of all, Tsu-chan wouldn’t even be penalized by that. Iemitsu was mostly unimpressed by the blatant nepotism rampant in the mafia- Xanxus wouldn't have gotten away with half of his bullshit, if he hadn't been Nono’s ‘son’- but would take advantage of it, if he had to.

 

By now, Iemitsu had come to the realization that he wanted to see his daughter become the leader of the Vongola Famiglia. It would be a difficult and dangerous endeavor, but his branch of the family had lost the main seat of power for almost 400 years, and it was high-time they reassumed control. 

 

This would even be the best result for the Vongola as a whole. Enrico had been an acceptable candidate, but Massimo was a spoiled brat that had reached his mid-thirties without even four Guardian slots filled. And Frederico was a misogynist playboy with commitment issues, that would either have no legitimate heirs or cause a subsequent power struggle through the many bastard children he produced. Iemitsu knew of at least two such descendants, and he wasn’t even bothering to keep track of any of them!

 

Also, it may be because he was the proud father of a bright little girl, but Iemitsu hated misogynists. 

 

For those reasons, Iemitsu mentally groaned at the extra effort involved, and then opened his briefcase. He had a long ride to the airport, so he might as well use that time productively by reading dossiers on the different department heads and influential officers he could form alliances with. A decade, or two, from now, those men and women might just become Tsu-chan’s officers.

 

xxxxxxxx

 

Tsuyoshi Yamamoto carefully cleaned his sushi knives, as he pondered the lesson he would give soon. Hs students were young, so there would be no katas involved, but a general lecture on physical fitness and nutrition, stretches, and building up stamina. Mostly he would have to keep them focused on proper pushups or jumping jacks and jogging around the park. The only difficulty would be to monitor the young Sawada, in case she unconsciously tapped into her flames.

 

“Daddy, can I go out and play?” Takeshi begged, looking up at him with pleading grey eyes.

 

“Not today, son,” Tsuyoshi replied, ruffling the boy’s black hair. “We’re going to do some training with a new student of mine. Maybe you two will become friends.”

 

“I want to play baseball instead,” the little boy said grumpily. “Why are you even taking on a student anyway? You never did that before.”

 

“I was offered a payment that I couldn’t refuse,” Tsuyoshi answered, putting the knife down, as the bells ringed. “Hello, Sawada-san.”

 

“Good afternoon, Yamamoto-san,” Nana Sawada gave him a bright smile and a brief bow, “This is my daughter, Tsunami. We’re very grateful that you would consider taking her on as a student!”

 

The brown-haired woman placed her hands on the little girl lurking behind her knees, and gently pushed her forward. “Say ‘hello’ to your new sensei, Tsu-chan.”

 

Tsuyoshi observed his new student with clear interest. Her hair was a glossy honey colour- a cross between Iemitsu’s blonde hair and Nana’s brown one- and very soft and fluffy looking. Amber-brown eyes blinked at him owlishly, though Tsuyoshi could spot the flecks of orange present in an active Sky. It was a little unnerving to see the hints of that power in a child Takeshi’s age, but she was clearly a shy and sweet creature, that blushed bright red when put into the spotlight.

 

“Hewo, sensei,” Tsunami said softly, talking very solemnly to TakeSushi’s linoleum floor. The lisp was adorable, and Tsuyoshi was instantly charmed.

 

He knelt down to look her in the eye. “Hello Tsunami-chan,” he replied, sticking his hand out, “My name is Tsuyoshi Yamamoto, but you can call me Tsu-sensei.”

 

The girl looked up furtively, and her hand snapped forward to shake his hand. “My Mama calls me Tsu-chan!” she informed him cutely. “But I wanna be called Tsuna.”

 

“Tsuna’s a very nice nickname,” the sushi chef nodded, “This is my son, Takeshi.”

 

“Hello,” Takeshi stepped forward, a plastic smile appearing on his face. “I’m Takeshi.” 

 

Tsuyoshi cringed on the inside. His son had only adopted that look after Miko-chan’s death, and he hated it. Mostly because he couldn’t do anything to  _ stop it _ , and powerlessness only riled up the secondary Cloud traits inside him.

 

Apparently the little girl agreed, because she frowned. “Your smile is fake,” she said, bluntly.

 

“Tsu-chan!” Nana admonished, while Takeshi’s face abruptly reddened.

 

Tsuyoshi could only look on in startled wonder. Was this the vaunted Hyper Intuition of the Vongola Skies? What a terrifying ability, if a child could wield it so effectively at such a young age. Then again, Tsunami Sawada did not strike him as an ordinary child.

 

“It is not!” Takeshi replied hotly. His careful mask of pleasantness fell apart with his newfound ire.

 

“Is so,” Tsunami insisted, crossing her arms. “You wooked wike a plastic doll, all empty inside.”

 

“Well you talk stupid,” his son shot back, huffing. “Baby.”

 

Orange eyes narrowed. “Lame-o.”

 

Takeshi’s posture relaxed. “Ugly face.”

 

“Monkeyboy.”

 

“Boogerhead.”

 

“Buttmunch.”

 

“Drippy nose monster.”

 

There was a silence for a brief second, before Tsunami incredulously repeated. “Dwippy nose monster?”

 

There was another pause, and then the little girl began to giggle. “That was a good one!”

 

Takeshi stared at her as though he was only clearly seeing her for the first time ever, before he tossed his head back and let loose a genuinely mirthful sound. Tsuyoshi watched as the two kids nearly doubled over in laughter from the juvenile insults. When one looked to be calming down, the other would incredulously repeat ‘drippy nose monster’, and the laughter would start all over again.

 

When the last of the giggles had finally left their system, Takeshi gave the Sawada girl an open grin, and stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet ya, Tsuna-chan. I’m Takeshi!”

 

“I’m Tsuna,” the girl replied, delighted that someone else would use her new nickname.

 

As the two shook hands, Tsuyoshi averted his eyes, to keep their glossy appearance from his guests. Tsunami Sawada was definitely no ordinary girl.

 

xxxxxxx

 

Tsunami Sawada was a small girl, and she was usually okay with that. It had lots of advantages, like being able to fit into the tightest, most secure spots for hide'n'seek, and riding on her Papa’s strong shoulders for any outdoors trip. But one big disadvantage was that a short body had short legs, that couldn’t cover much ground, and also Takeshi was born with an unfair height advantage.

 

“Come on, Tsuna-chan,” the dark-haired boy cheered, from where he was standing at the end of the tree line, “You’re almost there! You can do it!”

 

Tsuna tried to convey the full depths of her derision and loathing to him with her eyes, but the squinty maybe-glare just made it more difficult to see where she was going. A second later, her foot hit a protruding tree root, and the brunette girl comically tumbled to the ground.

 

“Ah!” Tsuna squeaked, covering her face before it came into contact with small pebbles. She felt the dull thump of impact, and the moist soil on her skin, and lay there. Her body felt exhausted.

 

“Tsuna!” Takeshi jogged forward, and knelt down besides her. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?!”

 

Tsuna groaned from her spot, feeling too tired to bat away the tiny hands that were patting her shoulders nervously. “‘m dying…” she moaned.

 

“Oh, you’re fine,” her friend sighed, and then sounded much more cheerful, “C’mon, Tsuna-chan. Get up. You’re almost done!”

 

Tsuna stubbornly stayed silent, even as the boy poked her mercilessly. Poke. Poke. Poke. Po-

 

“Stop it,” the brunette finally swiped his hand away. Even though she didn’t look up, she knew that there would be a open grin on Takeshi’s face. “Don’t wanna!”

 

“C’mon,” Takeshi coaxed, lifting her arm, “You’re not a quitter, are you, Tsuna-chan? I’ll even help you. It’s what friends do, don’t they?”

 

Tsuna’s annoyance melted a little, as her heart involuntarily warmed. She never had a friend before, and Takeshi was even offering to help. And Tsuna was no quitter! 

 

“‘kay,” the girl mumbled, letting Takeshi tug her upwards. Once she was standing on two shaky legs, half-leaning against the dark-haired boy’s tall, lean frame, a radiant smile crossed her face. “Let’s go!”

 

Unnoticeable to either of them, but easily seen by Tsuyoshi, were the glowing flecks of orange in her amber-brown eyes and the weaker glint of blue shimmering in Takeshi’s grey orbs. And unnoticeable to anyone present was the weak orange thread loosely tying the children’s wrists together. 

 

xxxxxxxx

 

“Can I see Take-kun tomowwow??”  Tsuna wanted to know, as Nana held her hand tightly and crossed the street.

 

“Of course, Tsu-chan,” the young woman answered, smiling, “Did you have fun today?”

 

“Tsu-chan ran!” Her daughter reported proudly, before going off on a child’s broken recounting of her day’s activities. “Take-kun runs fast, cuz Tsu-chan’s legs didn’t gwow yet, but he helped Tsu-chan...” 

 

Nana listened to her little girl’s babbling with an indulgent ear, nodding occasionally when her Tsu-chan stopped to take a deep breath. It was actually a little amazing just how many words a child could chatter in one minute, and then the energy they could muster for the next one.

 

Nana was quite happy to find that Tsunami made such a good friend so quickly, though she knew her husband would have preferred if Takeshi was a girl. It reassured the young mother to know that they would start daycare at the same time, and that her shy daughter wouldn’t be alone for the experience. 

 

Getting to know Tsuyoshi a little was also nice, as Nana hadn’t made many friends outside of her home. Naminori was an old-fashioned, secluded town, and they disapproved of Nana raising her daughter practically by herself due to Iemitsu’s long absences abroad. And the brunette woman wasn’t exactly ignorant to the whispers bandied by elderly gossipers and middle-aged mothers alike, that she only married her husband because he was a rich  _ gaijin _ . Nana was too embarrassed to confront them directly, and greeted her neighbors with a determinedly airheaded smile. Her supposed naivete and obliviousness hadn’t done much to endear her either, so then she tried to invite some of the women over for a small treat.

 

Nana had tried her best to be a good hostess, and provided plenty of her best snacks, but that olive branch had backfired as well. Soon the remarks included descriptions of her extravagant furniture or high-quality equipment, the foreign desserts that she served, and the many toys littering her home. By then, a hurt and frustrated Nana simply gave up, and refused to interact with her neighbors directly, barring the most basic of social necessities. That had earned her the moniker of snob, and Nana could barely keep herself from crying when she heard that title.

 

Due to those reasons, Nana didn’t have any close friends in Naminori. She was an only child, and her parents had cut her off, when she went ahead and married Iemitsu, so she couldn’t socialize with family either. The brunette refused to regret her decision; she loved Iemitsu, and she would have gotten her darling Tsu-chan otherwise, but she would have liked to make some adult friends. Tsuyoshi’s lessons were a fortuitous event in that both parents could discuss their respective children, and the assassin’s experience with the mafia helped answer some of the more delicate questions that her husband didn’t want to worry her with.

 

As a single parent and sole business owner, Tsuyoshi found it difficult to watch his son while working. Nana was to quick to volunteer her services as a babysitter, and refused all of his offers of compensation. Iemitsu’s salary covered all of the Sawada’s bills, and since she was a housewife, she would be at home anyway. 

 

“If anything, I should be thanking you,” Nana had argued, “Tsu-chan now has a friend her own age.”

 

They had agreed that after the kid’s lesson tomorrow morning, Takeshi would come over to spend the afternoon at the Sawada’s residence. Although they didn’t discuss this, both parents knew that this would be a good opportunity for some of Iemitsu’s agents to enter the Yamamoto’s home and add more security measures. 

 

Nana was still a little… not happy with Iemitsu’s chosen profession, or his decision to lie to her about it, but she was relieved that her husband took so many steps to make sure that she and Tsu-chan were safe. Even his choice to lie to her was motivated mostly by his desire to keep her from worrying, and also partially because Iemitsu didn’t want to drive her away when they were still dating. Nana didn’t know if she would have given up on the blonde man, had she known at the very beginning, but that point was moot. Although she would like to say that she wouldn’t have cared, Nana hadn’t known then. She did know now, when she was already happily married to the man, and that influenced her to accept it with as much grace as she could muster.

 

Her husband was in the mafia, and- by her suspicions- was a very important man in that profession. Despite her own reservations about the underworld, Nana couldn’t deny feeling proud of him for ascending to such an important position. The brunette woman acknowledged that the job had been beneficial to their family as well, if only by paying the bills. Not to mention that she wouldn’t have even met her husband, if Iemitsu wasn’t in Japan on a business matter.

 

Something that brought her more concern was that her husband was adamant about bringing Tsu-chan into the mafia. Iemitsu claimed that Tsu-chan’s flames and heritage would draw her in, regardless of their choice, and that as long as their little girl lived, she would be known as Primo’s descendant first and foremost. He claimed that the only way to lose that title, would be to make her own mark in Vongola, and to do that, she needed to be prepared. Nana wasn’t sure.

 

‘ _ If she’s going to be in the mafia anyway, than I want her to be prepared,’  _ Nana thought,  _ ‘But Iemitsu’s so focused on giving our daughter power, that he doesn’t consider that she may not even want it. Or that she may not need it, and could live a normal civilian life.’ _

 

Iemitsu meant well, as he always did with his family, but once he made a decision, he believed that it was the only path to take. Nana knew her husband’s faults, and the biggest one was that the blonde usually assumed that he was the smartest man in the room. Being genuinely intelligent didn’t do much for his humility, and apparently neither did being the head of whatever department he ran. That was why the brunette woman was determined to counteract her husband’s eagerness to make a leader of their only child, by her own calming influence and steadfast belief that Tsu-chan deserved a childhood.

 

She also deserved a mother who could protect her from the criminals her surname drew in. That was why, as soon as they were home, and Tsu-chan was tucked in for her nap, Nana would be trying those flame meditation techniques the brochure mentioned. 

 

She wasn’t a fighter, but the only way an assassin would reach her daughter would be over Nana’s cold, dead body.

 

xxxxxxxx

 

_ Tsuna’s met her first Guardian! She’ll have some time to build a friendship with him, before I gradually introduce a second Guardian, and, when she’s entering middle school, Hibari Kyoya. Iemitsu will introduce her to Gokudera, but she won’t meet Lambo until Reborn comes along. And I have some working plans in progress for Mukuro and Chrome (thank you, DLM4!), but we’ll have a lot more to cover before they enter the scene. _

 

_ Guardian Ages: _

 

_ Lambo: A twinkle in his father’s eye _

 

_ Chrome: 3 years old _

 

_ Tsuna, Takeshi, and Gokudera: 4 years old (Tsuna’s birthday is in the next chapter) _

 

_ Ryohei and Kyoya: 6 years old _

 

_ Mukuro: 7 years old _


	5. Chapter 5

Tsuna’s fourth birthday fell near the end of March, a few days before the beginning of the spring term, and was marked by a small celebration in the Sawada residence. The Yamamoto’s brought sushi, Nana made a cake, and Iemitsu sent over one of his typically elaborate gifts.

 

“It’s so realistic,” Takeshi marvelled, tracing one of the windows on the large dollhouse. It was a perfect three-foot replica of Tsuna’s home, complete with miniature furniture and tiny, lifelike dolls. 

 

“The roof can opwen!” Tsuna sounded delighted, before her nose wrinkled. “Opwen. Open.  _ Open. _ The roof can  _ open _ .”

 

“And look, Tsuna-chan, there’s a doll of me, too,” the dark-haired boy lifted the figurine, “I wonder why its face is melted though.”

 

“Don’t know. Little Tsu-chan is fine.” The mini-Tsunami even had a few different outfits that could be changed on the doll. The little girl promptly tugged off the doll’s pink dress and swapped it for a super-cool ninja outfit. “Tsu-chan likes this toy, but she wishes Mama would buy robot.”

 

“You like robots?” Takeshi cocked his head to the side.

 

“Tsu-chan wants to be robot when she’s big!” the birthday girl beamed, “Or a hewo- hero,  _ hero _ \- like Gi-o-too. Papa said Tsu-chan can be a hero.” 

 

“Who’s Giotto?” The dark-haired boy’s question led his friend to share the stories Nono had told her, and the two were fully-immersed in the adventures of Tsuna’s ancestor when Nana walked up.

 

“The cake is ready to be cut,” she announced, appearing even more excited for the event then her daughter, “Pictures first, and then we can sing the birthday song!”

 

Tsuna hated taking pictures, but allowed Takeshi to drag her towards the kitchen, where the eager clicking of Tsuyoshi’s camera could be heard. Most of the pictures would be divided between the two families, but Nana would pass a handful to that friendly yakuza member on Iemitsu’s payroll. Before they ended up in the hands of the proud father, they would pass through the CEDEF chain of command that knew about the Sawada Family, so each agent could take the time to express their surprise over Iemitsu having such a cute daughter.

 

The birthday song went by quickly, so all of the participants could move on to the double-layer chocolate cake. The end result was two hyperactive children with sugar substituting for blood in their veins, who ran outside to play catch with Takeshi’s baseball. When they had finally tucked themselves out, Tsuyoshi picked up his dozing son, bid the brunette hostess farewell, and carried the boy home. Nana was left to clean Tsu-chan up, and coax her into bed. Despite the tiredness she felt from arranging the party, and the mess that still needed to be cleaned up, Nana was quite content with how the day turned out.

 

“Tsu-chan had her first birthday party with her first friend today,” she whispered, lovingly pushing her daughter’s bangs away, “Mama only wishes that Papa was here to celebrate with us. Goodnight, Tsu-chan.”

 

“G’night, Mama,” was the returned sleepy mumble.

 

xxxxx

 

The first day of school had Nana Sawada waking up several hours before daybreak. She used the early morning solitude to mix up some pancake mix, and then settle down to meditate in the living room. Crossing her legs beneath her, Nana straightened her back, stapled her fingers, and let her lashes flutter closed.

 

_ ‘The brochure said that I should focus on my heartbeat,’  _ Nana recalled, taking a deep breath, ‘ _ In… out… in… out… in…’  _ Her forehead inevitably wrinkled, as the woman simply sat there, without anything out of the ordinary occurring. Despite the rising urge to fidget, Nana forcefully stilled her body, and continued her meditation. Her mind wandered over to the contented smile on her daughter’s face last night, and compelled her to continue the exercise.

 

As the minutes dragged on though, and Nana’s ears became attuned to the rhythmic tick-tocking of the living room’s clock, she began to wonder if she was doing this properly. Was flame meditation this difficult for everyone, or was she just not cut out for it? No, she couldn’t engage in such defeatist talk so early into her training. This was too important; her family was counting on her. The brunette mentally repeated the instructions that she had read yesterday. 

 

_ ‘Sky Flames are the physical manifestation of one’s willpower,’  _ she reminded herself, ‘ _ Willpower is related to what goals I’m determined to accomplish, and the people I want to protect. What am I determined to protect? My family, of course. I want to protect Tsu-chan, Iemitsu-kun, and now the Tsuyoshi family too. I don’t want to be the weak link.’   _

 

Her stomach twisted as the woman’s vivid imagination brought up images of her family, injured or broken. She thought of Tsu-chan, and how easy it would be to snap her bird-like bones. Takeshi running fearlessly to help his friend, only to have his windpipe crushed. Tsuyoshi, whose eyes were filled with shadows of a horror Nana had never experienced. Her handsome Iemitsu, brave and silly, a little too arrogant, but utterly infatuated with his family, and how he spent every day in the mafia. Shadowed men in suits standing above his bullet-riddled corpse.

 

_ ‘I won’t let that happen.’  _ Heat pooled in her coiled stomach, and Nana’s body was flushed with resolve. ‘ _ No one will hurt them.’ _

 

The steady, mechanical heartbeat of the clock was her only company, as Nana sat there and built up her conviction to destroy the nameless, faceless threat to her family. She was so deep in her thoughts, that the brunette didn’t hear the pitter-patter of a child’s feet walking over their wooden floors. The sound steadily made its way to her.

 

“Mama?” Her daughter’s voice made Nana open her eyes. The brunette girl had an inquisitive expression on her face. “Mama, why your eyes owange?”

 

xxxxx

 

Nana Sawada was practically vibrating with nerves as she entered the Academy’s schoolyard. There were bright streamers and colorful, handmade signs littering the opening ceremony, but the wailing forms of some of the first years detracted from the air of celebration. Dressed in a rumpled white shirt, red cross tie, and navy skirt and vest- Nana tried her best, but Tsu-chan was rather hyperactive today- Tsunami made a calmer picture then most of her peers. In fact, it was mostly Nana sniffling, as the shy little girl peered around her legs for Takeshi.

 

“There!” Tsuna shouted, her voice carrying around the crowd of children. She pointed over to a dark-haired boy that was at least half-a-head taller than his other classmates, and waved cheerily when he looked towards her. “Mama, Taka-kun is here!”

 

“Tsu-chan!” Grabbing his amused father’s hand, Takeshi barrelled towards the Sawadas. He was equally oblivious to the stares they were attracting. “Tsu-chan, there’s two classes! Are we in the same one?”

 

Amber-brown eyes widened in concern. “Mama, what class am I in?!”

 

Nana looked at the other adult, and nodded her greetings. “Tsu-chan is in Class 1B, with Azumi-san.” 

 

Tsuyoshi sighed in relief. “So is Takeshi! Did you find their teacher?”

 

“She should be over there,” Nana gestured to the woman with the short hair and green blouse. The woman held a sign with ‘Class 1B’ written on it, and had a pleasant smile on her face, despite the crying children clinging to her legs. Nana was impressed with the teacher’s aplomb.

 

Tsuna regained her former shyness, hiding strategically behind Nana’s dress, as the two parents approached Azumi-sensei. Takeshi had no such worries, but seemed to sense her discomfort, and stuck closely to her. For some reason, Takeshi’s presence was an unexpectedly calming balm for the young girl.

 

“Now, who do we have here?” Azemi-sensei asked, bending down a little to catch the children’s eyes. Takeshi grinned at her, while Tsuna buried her face in blue-and-white cotton fabric. “My name’s Azemi Toyomi. You can call me Azemi-sensei. What should I call you?”

 

“I’m Takeshi Yamamoto,” came one confident reply. When he tugged the girl next to him, doe-shaped eyes briefly made an appearance.

 

“Tsunami Sawada,” she mumbled. “Call me Tsuna?”

 

Azemi-sensei briefly checked her clipboard, and then offered them a big smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Takeshi, Tsuna! I hope we have a great year together!”

 

Pressed for time, the woman was forced to turn her attentions to another parent, and thus, missed Tsuna’s beaming smile in response. Perhaps it was for the best, as she would have otherwise been taken aback by the utter  _ moe-ness  _ of her new student. Takeshi had no such luck, and was forced to blink his eyes rapidly to remove the sparkles that had suddenly appeared in the air. 

 

“Be nice to everyone, and follow all of the classroom rules,” Nana instructed, drawing her daughter into one final hug, “I packed an extra dessert in your lunchbox, so you and Takeshi can have a treat. Make lots of friends, and don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you outside as soon as school is over.”

 

As she was doing this, Tsuyoshi was imparting his own advice. “Take a seat next to the cubbies,” he suggested, “Then your table will be picked first for activities. Be friendly, listen to your teachers, and don’t play with your baseball until recess. And can you look after Tsuna?”

 

“Of course,” Takeshi replied, pouting indignantly at the suggestion that he wouldn’t keep an eye out for his friend, “We’ll be fine, tou-san!”

 

“I know, I know,” Tsuyoshi muttered, hugging him tighter, “But that doesn’t stop your old man from worrying.” When the parents were done, Takeshi grabbed his friend’s hand, and handily dragged her into the classroom. Tsuna was content to follow behind, looking around curiously, as she was deposited in a plastic blue chair by the back of the room.

 

The classroom was decorated even more gaily then the courtyard outside, with flowers and common animals pasted on the blackboard with construction paper, and plenty of pictures of happy kids. Tsuna was immediately distrustful of those images. Papa always had an even bigger smile than normal when he tried to trick her into eating carrots.  _ Blech. _

 

“I think the blue bird is my favorite,” Takeshi mused, squinting at the board, “But the green frog has googly eyes and the yellow giraffe is cool too. Which one do you like, Tsuna?”

 

Tsuna scanned them all quickly. “The owange fox is best!” she answered, decisively.

 

“That’s cause it’s your favorite color,” the boy pointed out.

 

“Is not,” Tsuna half-heartedly argued the fact that they both knew were true, “Foxes are furry. Like cats.”

 

Takeshi’s brows furrowed. “Tsuna, you’re scared of cats.”

 

“Cat scratched Tsuna,” she shivered, “It was a  _ mean _ cat. Owange fox is a nice fox.”

 

“The orange fox is a drawing,” one of their tablemates said, “It can’t be mean or nice.”

 

The unexpected voice drew the attention of both Takeshi and Tsuna, and the latter turned to observe her new classmates. Tsuna had always been a curious little girl- much to Nana and the electric socket’s dismay- but she found herself staring at people a lot more since her flames came out. She couldn’t help. They were simply so  _ interesting _ .

 

The girl who didn’t like her fox had thick, long, brown hair and grey eyes, that were hard, like when her Papa was focused on something. Her face didn’t have as much baby fat as the other kids, but she didn’t look like a mean person. Tsuna was very good at knowing mean people, so she decided that she would try to be friends with this new girl.

 

Having resolved this, she turned her attention to the other girl in the table. She had a nice smile, honey-coloured eyes, and…

 

“You have owange hair!” Tsuna exclaimed, in mixed delight and envy. “It’s so pwetty!”

 

The girl didn’t appear to be freaked out by the strange declaration, and only offered a friendly smile in return. “Thanks,” she chirped, “I like your hair too! My name’s Kyoko Sasagawa!”

 

“I’m Tsunami Sawada,” the brunette couldn’t tear her eyes away from the lovely orange-brown hair, “You can call me Tsuna! And this is Takeshi.”

 

As Tsuna kept eyeing the hair that she so deeply desired, she missed the brief downturn of Takeshi’s lips or the glint of blue in his eyes. They were there for less than a heartbeat, before the boy was introducing himself to the other two deskmates. If his greetings held a hint of uncustomary stiffness, Tsuna chose not to draw attention to it.

 

xxxxx

 

“Is this report conclusive?” Iemitsu’s eyes suggested that a damn good reason had better be offered if the answer was negative.

 

Lal Mirch internally cringed at her Boss’s expression, and mentally calculated the loss of dignity if she threw another agent in front of her. “We’ve been unable to identify the body in question, but Masimo’s trademark purple jacket was found at shore less than two miles away. The tide was slow.”

 

“Why hasn’t the area been dragged then?” Iemitsu demanded.

 

“We’ve booked an appointment for this weekend with the Vongola forensics team,” Lal Mirch answered weakly, raising a notarized form. “They won’t be available any earlier, sir. And we don’t have any units trained for securing drowning victims without contamination of evidence.”

 

“The Varia could have all that uncontaminated evidence wiped out by tomorrow!” the Head of CEDEF slammed his hand down on the desk, making the woman jump. “Dammit Lal, I need that information! Book an independent group, make a deal with the forensics team, or even get me the contaminated body. We need to know if and how Masimo Vongola was killed.”

 

“The team is fairly confident that the victim was Masimo, sir,” Lal reported, “There was blood on the jacket that matched with his CEDEF sample.”

 

Iemitsu’s eyebrows rose. “How did you find blood samples in a drowning scene?”

 

“Internal hemorrhaging, as the deep pressure caused blood to pool in the lungs,” was the self-assured response, “Sir, we have also found traces of salt on the jacket, even though the body was drowned in a freshwater lake.”

 

Iemitsu understood. “An indication of foul play, then. Alright. I want this body secured and examined in the next twenty-four hours. Have a copy of the preliminary findings delivered to my desk.”

 

“Sir, with all due respect,” the blue-haired military sniper in the form of a toddler hesitated, “Should we be so quick to identify Massimo’s corpse? The resulting uproar may give Frederico the opportunity to secure the heir’s position.”

 

There was humor glinting in her Boss’s blue eyes. “That sounds dangerously close to treason, Lal.”

 

At the woman’s paling face, he chuckled. “I share your concerns, but I doubt Frederico can obtain a majority of department approvals,” Iemitsu assured, “For one, I have no intention of offering my support.”

 

“Does that mean you’ll be supporting Xanxus?” Lal Mirch’s shock was understandable. After all, her Boss hadn’t bothered to hide his disapprobation with the youngest- and wildest- of Nono’s son. Though only within CEDEF headquarters, around his trusted, handpicked officers, of course.

 

“Don’t be absurd,” Iemitsu snorted, “As if I’d help that selfish, greedy, violent  _ stolto  _ drive the Famiglia to the ground.”

 

“But isn’t he the only other choice?” Lal Mirch questioned, a sudden realization dawning in her eyes, “Unless… your daughter, Boss?”

 

The Young Lion of Vongola cocked his head to the side, and gained the appearance of one deeply in contemplation. Lal Mirch waited patiently, knowing that her Boss would be creating, reviewing, and discarding any number of plans, most of which would be methods of misdirecting from the actual decision. If she was lucky, Iemitsu might even share.

 

“Have a copy of the preliminary report ready for Nono,” Iemitsu ordered. Lal sighed. Apparently, she was not lucky today. “Don’t send it over until the body has been thoroughly examined. And Lal Mirch? I need you to lengthen the section for possible suspects, including any perpetrators with the slightest incentive for killing Massimo.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Lal snapped off a salute, and then turned away, with the gears in her mind spinning. 

 

‘ _ Every perpetrator?’  _ she thought, incredulous,  _ ‘I might as well make a list of the people who  _ didn’t  _ want to kill him, and save paper.’ _

 

xxxxx


	6. Chapter 6

It came to no one’s surprise that the athletic, friendly, and good-looking Takeshi Yamamoto would quickly become one of the most popular students in the first form. What had been surprising for his classmates though, was that the dark-haired boy came as a package deal. To play with Takeshi, they also had to accept his uncoordinated tomboy friend with the messy hair and child’s lisp. 

 

Most of the students dealt with this easily, because Tsuna was a strange girl, but ultimately harmless. She wasn’t very athletic, but didn’t trip over her own two feet. She didn’t get the best grades, but wasn’t in danger of failing academically. She didn’t like to play dolls with the other girls, but she didn’t bully anyone either. Other than having the popular Takeshi stick to her like a baseball-obsessed shadow, Tsuna was just… very average.

 

A few students weren’t as happy with their oddly close friendship though.

 

Tsuna had been sitting outside when they decided to confront her. Takeshi had been dragged into a baseball game, and, while he had offered to stay with her, Tsuna knew how much he enjoyed the sport. So, she decided to sit nearby with a sketchbook and draw pictures of robots instead. The amber-eyed girl had hoped to play a boardgame with Kyoko and Hana, but they didn’t ask her, and Tsuna was too shy to make the request herself. 

 

_ ‘I wish I could make some of my own friends,’  _ Tsuna thought wistfully, coloring in a massive laser blaster on her mecha robot, ‘ _ Takeshi-kun’s friends are very nice, but I want to have one of my own. _ ’

 

The brunette had tried to make friends with the two girls sharing her table, but all of her attempts were unsuccessful so far. Tsuna had tried to share her favorite orange washable marker during colouring time, but Takeshi needed to borrow it for his drawing. When they had to count their numbers, Tsuna wanted to ask Hana for help, but Takeshi called Azemi-sensei over. Then, during naptime, Takeshi asked her to sleep by the window, so they could secretly read his superhero comics, and put his spare pillow on her other side to hide them from the other students.

 

If Tsuna didn’t know better, she would suspect that Takeshi didn’t really like Kyoko, but that was silly. How could anyone not like the kind girl with the pretty orange hair? It was  _ orange _ after all.

 

Tsuna was drawn out of her dejected musings, by the sound of several steps heading towards her. When she looked up, she saw four girls from her class and class 1A surrounding her. The lead girl was Akane, and her face was set in a very unhappy frown.

 

“Er… hewwo?” Tsuna ventured, blinking doe-like amber eyes in confusion. Unknown to her, the cute action had only increased the girls’ ire.

 

“We want to talk to you, Tsuna!” Akane snapped.

 

“Okway?” Tsuna’s reply was still bemused. “Wanna sit down?”

 

“No,” Akane folded her arms, “We want you to stop being friends with Takeshi-kun!”

 

A fission of discomfort curled around her belly at the thought, and Tsuna frowned. “Why?”

 

“Cause you’re a dame!” another girl, and Tsuna’s couldn’t recognize this one, burst out, “You talk like a baby, you don’t get good grades, and you’re always clumsy! You’re worthless!” 

 

“And you’re an outsider,” Miko, who had been so quiet in class, added, “All the adults say that your father is a no-good  _ gaijin,  _ and you’re just as bad as he is _. _ ” 

 

Tsuna sat there, shocked, as the slur was thrown at her. She had heard  _ gaijin _ whispered by the old lady across the street before, but she hadn’t known it was an insult. Why would they insult her Papa?

 

“Takeshi-kun doesn’t want to be friends with a no-good dame like you,” Akane said, lips curling into a sneer. “So why don’t you do him a favor, and leave him alone?”

 

_ ‘Lies,’  _ a voice inside of her whispered, warm and confident, filling the icy pit in her stomach with reassurance, ‘ _ Takeshi is your friend. _ ’

 

“Takeshi-kun is my fwiend,” Tsuna repeated, her hands balling up, as she dropped her sketchbook. She scrambled up off the ground, and looked Akane in the eye. “And my Papa’s not bad! You are!”

 

Her eyes shifted from their liquid amber tone to a flickering orange, and Akane Fujiwara took a step back as the shrinking brunette suddenly gave the aura of being something _ more _ . 

 

“H-he probably just pities you,” the final girl, Tameo, stuttered, “He’s not happy being your f-friend.”

 

“I can’t say if he is, but I think that Takeshi-kun would tell me if he wasn’t happy with being my fwiend,” Tsuna said stubbornly, “ _ I’m _ happy with being  _ his  _ fwiend. I know that I’m not really smart or really stwong, but Takeshi’s my fwiend anyway- and I’m happy with that. I’m really lucky to be his fwiend, and I won’t let you take that away fwom me!” 

 

“I’m happy to be your friend too, Tsuna-chan,” a cheerful voice added, and Tsuna’s face swiveled towards the black-haired boy standing a few meters away from them. 

 

The other girls turned around too, and Miko even gasped at the small crowd of baseball players surrounding them. Tsuna could understand their worry. Takeshi had his perfect plastic smile on, but there was something in the way that he gripped his baseball bat that looked scary.

 

Inside of her, Tsuna’s flame  _ purred _ at the presence of her Guardian, and the invisible orange thread tying their wrists together became even brighter.

xxxxx

 

Takeshi was quiet as he helped wash the dishes, and Tsuyoshi felt concerned by that. The former assassin turned sushi chef wondered what had caused his little boy’s disquiet. Had he gotten into a fight with Tsuna? No, they had completed their homework at the shop today, and Takeshi gave her his usual goodbye hug before she went home. The kids had also been excited over their sleepover tomorrow, planning to stay up all night and watch ghost films since there wouldn’t be any school the next day. So, Tsuna wasn’t the problem.

 

Maybe it was school? Takeshi had some trouble with the homework today, but simply asked him for help, as usual. Was it dinner? But then, Takeshi had asked for seconds. Baseball?

 

“Did you play baseball today?” Tsuyoshi ventured.

 

His son’s face fell, and he nodded. Ah, so it was baseball. “Sometimes people just have an off day, son,” Tsuyoshi advised, “I’m sure you’ll play well tomorrow.”

 

“What?” The dark-haired boy’s face twisted in confusion. “No, baseball was fine. I wanted Tsuna-chan to play with us, but she wanted to sit and draw instead.”

 

Tsuyoshi nodded. “Friends often have different interests. It’s fine to spend time apart, and do things you enjoy independently. You’ll still be friends.”

 

“I know, but…” Takeshi hesitated, “When I was playing, some of the girls came up to Tsuna and said some mean things. They said that I didn’t want to be friends with her because she’s a no-good dame.”

 

The father’s eyebrows rose. “And do you agree with them?”

 

“No! Of course not!” The younger male burst out immediately. “I’m glad that Tsuna’s my friend!”

 

“And did you tell her that?” Tsuyoshi probed.

 

“Yeah,” Takeshi answered, “And she told them that she liked being my friend too.”

 

A sense of fatherly pride entered Tsuyoshi, and he hoped that he could convey it well when he put his hands on his son’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Takeshi. You did exactly what a good friend should do. Sometimes there are cruel people in the world, who can say hurtful things, but as long as you remember to be a good friend, and that you  _ have _ a good friend, you’ll be fine.”

 

Takeshi’s eyes fell, and an embarrassed blush spread over his face. “I’m not a good friend,” he said.

 

The sushi chef was genuinely astonished. “Why would you say that?”

 

Takeshi’s answer was directed to his feet. “Tsuna tried to make friends with the girls that sit on our table, and I wouldn’t let her.”

 

Tsuyoshi had an idea of where this was going, but questioned further. “Why did you do that, Takeshi?”

 

The response was a series of unintelligible mumbles, and a stubborn tilt of his son’s head. Although the matter was somewhat serious, Tsuyoshi had to keep himself from laughing. His adorable little son was jealous of sharing Tsuna’s friendship!

 

“Takeshi, you made friends with the other kids in class, didn’t you?” the father asked.

 

“Yes,” Takeshi reluctantly admitted, “But Tsuna’s still my  _ best _ friend.”

 

“Of course,” Tsuyoshi assured, smiling, “But if you can be friends with others, and still consider Tsuna to be your best friend, then don’t you think Tsuna can do the same?”

 

His son looked up, and a hint of a whine entered his voice. “I don’t want her to be friends with Kyoko!”

 

‘ _ He’s jealous of a specific girl, then, _ ’ Tsuyoshi thought, laughter bubbling at his throat.

 

“What’s wrong with Kyoko?” Tsuyoshi asked.

 

A pout formed on Takeshi’s young, round cheeks. “She’s too nice. In the murder mystery books, that’s always the person who killed everybody.”

 

Tsuyoshi sweatdropped, and reconsidered his choice of bedtime material. “Life’s not like those books, Takeshi-kun. I’m sure that- er, Kyoko- doesn’t want to kill anyone.”

 

“...She has orange hair,” Takeshi admitted grudgingly.

 

‘ _ Do not laugh, do not laugh, do not laugh,’  _ the father mentally recited.

 

“I don’t think Tsuna will drop you as a best friend, just because she found a girl with orange hair,” Tsuyoshi managed to say, and then, in a stroke of inspiration added, “You know, if Tsuna had a friend, then she wouldn’t be lonely when you played baseball. And someone could protect her against the bullies when you aren’t there.”

 

Takeshi huffed. “Tsuna can protect herself just fine,” his son informed him, though there was now a look of consideration on his young face.

 

Tsuyoshi hastily excused himself, and then hurried to his room where, five minutes later, he was laughing so hard, that he nearly cried.

 

xxxxx

 

“Is the full preliminary investigation?” Nono asked, accepting the thick file and placing it on the table in front of him. “Have you included the coroner’s report?”

 

Iemitsu felt a spike of dissatisfaction at seeing his efforts pushed to the side, but quickly moved to suppress his ire. There was an empty, heartbroken look in the old man’s hazel eyes, and even if he hadn’t liked Massimo, the Head of CEDEF could feel his heart deluge under a wave of sympathy. This was the second son that Nono would be burying in just that many years, and he didn’t want that for the Vongola Head. 

 

_ ‘Though I’m not pushing for it to stop either, am I?’  _ His mind pointed out, and Iemitsu suppressed that inward anxiety with equal ease.

 

“Yes,” Iemitsu cleared his throat, “We’ve passed… Massimo’s body over to the Logistics Department.”

 

Nono gave a silent nod, and the blonde man was dismissed. As he walked out the door, throwing the smug baby that was allowed to stay a contemptuous glare, Iemitsu sighed. Allowing his powerful if inexperienced Flame-active daughter to remain unsealed, healthy, and _ whole,  _ had driven a wedge between the Head of CEDEF and the Leader of the Vongola. 

 

It was inevitable, he surmised, because even if Iemitsu swore not to interfere with the inheritance process, Tsuna remained a viable candidate. And while Nono’s objectivity was compromised by his son's’ claim to the position, he was still ruthless enough to want a spare heir secured away in Japan. 

 

Iemitsu knew that he was playing a dangerous game. There was a thin line between hindering an investigation insofar as adding too many suspects and obstructing one by removing viable threats to Massimo’s life. A razor sharp line, but one that existed nonetheless. He had emphasized the potential Varia connection in his report, but had also discreetly spread the word that he was looking for unaffiliated, flame-active, young mafioso. It had the potential to entirely blow up in his face, but the blonde couldn’t deny the minor thrill that accompanied balancing those multiple interests.

 

His mind moving to his wife and daughter- as they inevitably did, most days- Iemitsu silently gloated over his impeccable taste in women. His agents had claimed that Nana’s hazel eyes bore flickers of orange flames, which the blonde man was dying to see. If only he wasn’t so damn busy.

 

Iemitsu pushed his thoughts away, when he reached the nondescript lobby of the CEDEF officers. Waiting for him there was a small, slender boy with shaggy blonde hair and a polite smile.

 

“Basil!” Iemitsu pasted his widest, cheesiest grin on his face, as he bounded over to the child, “Are you ready for our field trip?”

 

Basil nodded, his face lit with childish excitement. “Of course, my Lord!”

 

Not for the first time, Iemitsu wondered why his adorable apprentice insisted on sounding like a high school’s rendition of a Shakespearean play. While all of CEDEF’s top brass were encouraged to have over-the-top personalities as a layer of misdirection from their information-gathering activities, most went for an excessive display of their normal traits. Iemitsu himself chose the overtly enthusiastic, happy-go-lucky idiot, because it played well with his natural optimism and zest for life.

 

Basil’s Elizabethan-era speech patterns though, were just weird. So, really, his persona was excellent.

 

“Hast thou chosen a location for thy trip?” Basil asked, “Shall we go combat enemies of thy home?”

 

“No,” Iemitsu replied succinctly. When the young boy’s face fell, he fought to keep himself from chuckling at the naivete. Had his apprentice honestly thought Iemitsu would bring along a seven-year-old on a mission involving shooting other famiglias? Basil had a good head on his shoulders, but he was still a kid. Besides, Shamal had recommended this trip.

 

“Where hast thou chosen, then?” The hopeful blue eyes were clearly still operating under the belief that something cool and deadly had been planned.

 

“We will be going to…” Iemitsu drew it out, as his apprentice’s eyes grew ever wider, “...visit the museum!” 

 

And that hope shattered into a million little dejected pieces of realistic expectations. The older mas was thusly gratified, because he could still remember his own dismay when his mentor had pulled this exact same trick on him. 

 

“...the museum?” Basil murmured dejectedly, “Why did you- er, why hast thou chosen the museum?”

 

“I’ll answer your question with one of my own,” Iemitsu cheerfully replied, tossing Basil a light jacket because, even in spring, a brisk wind was expected in the afternoon, “What do your classes focus on?”

 

“Languages?” was the hesitant reply. 

 

“Correct!” Iemitsu pushed him into the idling vehicle, “And why do we do that?”

 

“Because we get intelligence reports in many different languages,” Basil answered.

 

“Also correct, but not what I was looking for,” the blonde man said, “We can have those reports translated into Italian, and do so for the other departments in Vongola. However, each language contains its own nuances, idioms, and connotations, which are often lost in translation. Extrapolate from there.”

 

“We study languages so that we can find the minute details of our reports,” Basil furrowed his brows, “And we’re going to the museum because language is tied with culture, and to understand the former, we need to know the context that is used?”

 

“Exactly!” Iemitsu encouraged, “Another reason is that humans are creatures of symbolism. We rely on provoking imagery to encompass entire ideas, concepts, religions, and so on. Take the name ‘Apollo’ for example. If a project is given this title, then we can reasonably estimate that it will be associated with solar energy, medicine, music, or various statistical probabilities expounded from the given data.”

 

“Er… statistical probabilities?” A look of confusion crossed Basil’s face.

 

“Apollo was the patron god of the Oracle of Delphi, and closely associated with divining the future,” Iemitsu explained, “Anyway, while mythology and folklore are metaphorical wellsprings of symbolism, they won’t be the focus of today’s trip. Instead, we will focus on idioms.”

 

Basil nodded. He was still mildly disappointed over not going on a dangerous mission, but could see the benefits of acquiring this knowledge.

 

“We’ll start off with English idioms first,” his Master began, “What does ‘to swallow a bitter pill’ mean?”

 

xxxxx

 

Hayato Gokudera, aged four years old, curled up into himself to conserve the minimal warmth that his body could generate. There was a nagging pain in his stomach that he ignored, as he had sadly become accustomed to pangs of hunger in the last few weeks. The quarter-Oriental child’s silver-toned hair had become a grayish-brown by now, and he knew that his clothes- ragged and smelly- were reminiscent of every other street urchin in Italy.

 

It had been less than three months since Hayato ran away from his family to join a mafia family, and he had no more luck in that endeavor today than he had on his first day out. Perhaps the Mafia Dons would have considered him if he had some marketable skills, but Hayato hadn’t been able to catch Trident Shamal before he left the mansion, and didn’t know how to fight. Then again, the main problem seemed to be his background as a musician and his foreign looks, so perhaps not.

 

Despite the spring weather, a chill had formed in the wind, and Hayato’s body was buffeted by the cold. In order to distract himself from the circumstances, the silver-haired boy closed his eyes, and recited the major piano scales that Lavina- no, his  _ mother _ \- had taught him. 

 

He couldn’t play the piano anymore, due to the poison cooking that his father had forced on him, and was quite sure that he despised the remaining members of his family for that. Playing the piano had been something that he and Lavina-  _ Mother _ \- had shared together, and now, it was lost to him.

 

_ ‘Along with any chance of finding a famiglia of my own,’ _ Hayato thought, wrapping his arms around his chest even more tightly.  _ ‘None of the small famiglia want me, and if they don’t, then what chance would I have with the big and powerful ones?’ _

 

Hayato furiously shoved his doubt down, and moved on to reciting the G-Major. He was almost halfway through, when another voice broke his peace.

 

“What is thy doing here?” a young voice asked, and Hayato blearily looked up. In the dim lighting of the alley, he could see two males. One was a tall, imposing blonde man, and, next to him, having spoken, was a blonde-haired boy only a few years older than him. Probably a father-son pair.

 

Hayato glared at the boy, feeling jealous over the parental protection that the other child had. “Tch, none of your business, weirdo.”

 

The boy frowned, but the man spoke next. “Hey, there’s no need to be rude!” The loud, booming voice made Hayato cringe, and perhaps the man saw that, because his words became softer. “Kid, when was the last time you ate?”

 

Hayato stubbornly stayed silent, and the man seemed to come to a decision. “Basil and I were planning to get dinner near here. Would you like you to come with us?”

 

The surprise across Basil’s face showed that this was news to  _ him _ , and even though, Hayato despised being lied to, being pitied… his stomach clenched again. “Fine.” 

 

Basil had odd speech patterns, but his words were friendly and thoughtful, as he tried to draw Hayato into a conversation. The silver-haired boy kept his answers short and clipped, and tried not to fidget under the heavy stare of the blonde man. Though the son was more cordial, Hayato preferred the father’s businesslike demeanor. He wasn’t friends with either of them, and appreciated that the older man kept this fact in mind.

 

They were wealthy though, Hayato knew, because the type of restaurant they entered was the type that his father preferred to eat at. The maitre’d was excellent, and barely batted an eyelash at Hayato’s urchin regalia, as they were led to a private table. When the silver-haired boy displayed perfect manners when consuming his meal, the blonde stranger didn’t even bat an eyelash, and merely offered him the dessert menu.

 

“So, I’m Iemitsu Sawada, and that’s my apprentice, Basil,” the blonde man said brightly, over his tiramasu. Hayato had chosen a more sedate coffee-flavored panna cotta, and barely avoided dropping his fork at the introduction. 

 

Iemitsu Sawada? Iemitsu SAWADA?! He was eating dinner with the freaking Young Lion of VONGOLA?!

 

“Hayato Gokudera,” Hayato said numbly, and then stuck a huge forkful of gelatin in his mouth, before he could say something stupid. Then he added another forkful because he really,  _ really  _ didn’t want to say something stupid to the Young Lion of Vongola. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Iemitsu replied, with more warmth than had been directed at him by anyone, anywhere, since his mother died. Hayato stuck another forkful into his mouth.

 

“Willst thou choke on that bite?” Basil asked, in alarm. Hayato opened his mouth, to reassure the apprentice of Iemitsu freaking Sawada, that he would be fine, when a piece of his dessert went down the wrong pipe. Hayato promptly began to choke.

 

“Basil, get some water!” Iemitsu Sawada’s muscular arms crossed his stomach, and began to forcefully push down as Hayato began coughing. One, two, and then a chunk of coffee-flavored pastry flew out of his mouth and fell- with a plopping sound- into Iemitsu’s wine glass. 

 

_ ‘I just upchucked into the Vongola Lion’s wine,’  _ Hayato thought, greedily drinking the glass of water pressed into his hands, ‘ _ Someone please kill me now. _ ’

 

The moment he could blink his teary eyes without seeing double, Hayato looked up and caught the frown on the blond man’s face.  _ Oh God, he’s angry at me.  _ His stomach fell straight through the floor, and Hayato suddenly felt the urge to hurl. His dreams of joining a famiglia would never happen now. 

 

Hayato threw himself forward, intending to land on the floor and beg for Sawada’s forgiveness, when a calloused hand grabbed the scruff of his dirty shirt. He felt himself being deposited back on his chair with incredible gentleness, and may have taken note of that, if his panicked mind wasn’t suddenly filled with images of his broken and bloodied body dumped back in the alley.

 

“You okay, kid?” Iemitsu’s commanding voice drew his attention, and the silver-haired boy could see twin expressions of concern on both blonde males’ faces.

 

“Fine,” Hayato croaked, clearing his throat, “I’m sorry for…” He waved his hand through the air, to encompass the entire event.

 

_ ‘I’m so sorry,’  _ Hayato thought fervently, ‘ _ So, so sorry. Please don’t tell all of the other mafia families about how useless I am. Or kill me. Please don’t kill me.’ _

 

“Haha, it’s fine,” Iemitsu laughed, “My daughter’s pretty clumsy, so I’m used to dinner mishaps! Now, why don’t we finish our meal, Hayato?”

 

It sounded rather like an order, and Hayato nervously picked up his spoon and poked at the half-finished plate. Sawada’s steadfast gaze led him to take another, far smaller bite, and Hayato’s reward was a dazzling grin of approval.

 

_ ‘Did he say that he had a daughter?’ _ Hayato wondered, taking another bite. 

 

“Do you live around here, Hayato?” Basil asked, drawing the silver-haired boy’s attention to the less imposing apprentice. 

 

“No,” Hayato replied, sneaking a glance at Sawada, and then firming his shoulders. “I came here to join a mafia famiglia.”   
  


Since his dream had already been very thoroughly beaten down, there wasn’t much more Sawada or his apprentice could do to destroy it even further, right?

 

“What a coincidence!” Iemitsu chirped, a sunny grin crossing his face, “I happen to be looking for some unaffiliated agents right now!”

 

“Really?!” And his heart was beating so rapidly that it might burst, but Hayato didn’t care, because Sawada was  _ recruiting _ . “You are?!”

 

The silver-haired boy gathered all of his courage and then burst out. “I have a genius IQ! I’ve built up a strong resistance to most poisons, and I can speak Italian, French, and English fluently. I don’t know how to fight, but I can learn! Please give me a chance!” 

 

Sawada’s brown eyes were almost orange under the lighting, but Hayato didn’t care. He didn’t care because there was a considering expression on the Young Lion’s face, before the older man gave a single nod. Hayato had to bite his lip to prevent the tears from falling down his eyes.

 

Iemitsu Sawada was willing to give him a chance!

 

“You should hear the details before you decide to join though,” Sawada warned, and Hayato could have snapped his neck from how quickly he nodded. The silver-haired boy didn’t care what he had to do. This was his opportunity to join a famiglia- the Vongola- and he would do anything to keep it.

 

“My daughter, Tsunami, lives in Namimori, Japan,” Sawada began, leaning forward, “You’ll need some polishing first, of course, but I think you have the potential to become a great Guardian, Hayato…” 

 

xxxxx


	7. Chapter 7

Nana sat back and took a sip of her sake-laced green tea, as she studied the messy financial records of  _ TakeSushi _ . Tsuyoshi’s messy handwriting had been scribbled all over the pages, with blobs of ink marking areas of particular frustration. It turned out that her new friends talent with making sushi didn’t extend to other areas of running a sushi restaurant, because the shop had a perennial problem with ordering too much stock and having it spoil. If not for Tsuyoshi’s admittedly fantastic dishes and assassin savings, the shop would have closed ages ago from poor management.

 

The situation wasn’t too bad though. Tsuyoshi had an established reputation, a loyal clientele, and the deed to the establishment, so all Nana had to do was straighten out some figures and calculate the proper amount of inventory. Th brunette woman had been happy to do so, because part time auditing was surprisingly enjoyable. Nana had always been clever with her maths, and, while being a mother was her first passion, Tsunami didn’t  _ need _ her as much now.  

 

Her baby girl was growing up: attending school, making friends, and tumbling sideways to the ground. Tsuyoshi was teaching the kids how to properly fall today, and they were having a blast jumping down a crate and curling into little hedgehogs.

 

“Tuck your arms in, Takeshi,” the sushi chef called, as his gangly son struggled to fold into himself, “Keep your chin down, like a turtle. There you go!”

 

Tsunami burst into cheers, as the dark-haired boy rolled over to her, and Takeshi jumped up, with a proud grin on his face. Then it was his turn to cheer, as Tsuna climbed on top of the crate again.

 

_ ‘It’s hard to think of this as mafia training _ ,’ Nana mused inwardly. For one, the kids looked adorably ridiculous, and for another, they were clearly having fun. ‘ _ This might just save their lives one day, though. _ ’ And wasn’t that a terrible thought? That Tsunami’s life might be at risk one day.

 

“Having fun with your numbers?” Tsuyoshi entered the restaurant, and grimaced at the piles of paper. 

 

Nana raised her cup in greeting. “I’m pleasantly buzzed right now, so yes,” she replied cheerfully, “Did you know that if your sales remain steady for the next six months, you can afford to expand?”

 

“Really?” Tsuyoshi’s lined face broke out into a smile, “I didn’t know the shop was doing that well.”

 

“That’s probably because of the sinkhole you have here, with the snappers and spineless cuttlefish,” Nana pushed the appropriate page forward, and Tsuyoshi obediently pretended to understood what it said. “You should cut those, and focus less on shrimp. You don’t have enough tourist clientele to justify the expense.”

 

“If you say so,” Tsuyoshi reached for the sake bottle, “I think I’ll celebrate with a glass-”

 

“Oh, no,” Nana slapped his hand away, and drew the bottle closer to herself, “This is  _ mine _ . The kids are sleeping over here tonight, and I plan to get properly sloshed at home.”

 

“Stingy,” the man complained, “Aren't you supposed to be a respectable mother?”

 

“Not at all,” Nana snorted, “I’m the waitress whore that seduced a rich foreigner to pay for my upkeep as his mistress, and is a total snobby bitch because of my success. Or an airhead. Whichever.”

 

“Nana, have those rumors really been bothering you, that much?” Tsuyoshi frowned, “I can talk to some of the neighborhood parents for you.”

 

“Thank you, but I’m mostly over them,” Nana had a strained smile on her face, “Usually, they bounce from my skin like water off a duck- and yes, I know that sounds odd, but Iemitsu is absolutely  _ obsessed _ with foreign idioms- but I’m feeling maudlin today. Tsunami-chan’s entered school, and, well, I suppose Takeshi-kun told you?”

 

“He mentioned that there was a bullying attempt,” Tsuyoshi admitted hesitantly, “But I thought the kids handled it well.”

 

“They did,” Nana insisted, “I’m angry that they _ had _ to deal with it in the first place, and, as Tsu-chan grows up, she’ll have to deal with it even more.”

 

Tsuyoshi shrugged helplessly. “She’s a pretty girl. Other students would be jealous of that beauty, and strike out at her foreign blood.”

 

Nana nodded. “Idiots.”

 

“I agree, but my original concern still stands,” Tsuyoshi countered, “You need friends-”

 

“I have you!” Nana complained.

 

“-who don’t make your husband insecure enough to send you flowers every week,” the chef continued, rolling his eyes, “It’s starting to become ridiculous.”

 

Nana pouted. “I like the flowers. They’re very pretty, and Iemitsu has the cash to spare.”

 

“Still, another friend could never hurt,” Tsuyoshi pressed, “If you have the time, then why don’t you stop by the shop when school’s open? I could use an assistant if we’re planning to expand, and there are some very friendly lunch customers that could be persuaded to ignoring the rumors.”

 

The brunette woman gave him a suspicious look. “Are you trying to trick me into free labor?” 

 

“No,” Tsuyoshi lied, “Okay, yes, but not entirely. I think it could help you to get out more.”

 

“I thought you didn’t want Iemitsu to learn about our torrid affair?” Nana chuckled at the chef’s rapidly paling face, “Okay, why not? I’ll be here tomorrow!”

 

“Nana, don’t even joke about that!” Tsuyoshi looked around furtively, “I know you’re mostly ignorant about the mafia, but if there’s one thing you should know, it’s that your husband is terrifying!”

 

“Iemitsu, scary?” Nana laughed in disbelief. “Sure, Tsuyoshi, sure. Why are you looking around like that? It’s not like he bugged this place.”

 

… 

 

Over 6,000 miles away, Agent Turmeric carefully replayed the conversation, analyzed the speaker’s vocal tones, and decided to disregard the flagged words. There weren’t any hints of the former assassin being inappropriately friendly with the Boss’s wife, so there was no need to take action.

 

xxxxx

 

“Tsuna?” Takeshi’s soft voice drew her away from the homemade popcorn that was more melted butter than corn kernels at this point. 

 

“Takeshi?” The brunette parroted back, finally putting the pitcher down and bringing the bowl over to the sofa. “Do you wanna talk ‘bout something?”

 

“I was wondering…” the dark-haired boy began to fidget. “Have you had any luck? You know, making friends?”

 

“No,” Tsuna admitted, frowning. “I have you-” Takeshi brightened up. “-but no one else wantsa pway with Tsuna-chan.” Takeshi wilted.

 

“Do you want to play with more people?” Takeshi asked, unhappily.

 

Tsuna shrugged, as a fire within her coiled inward. “Pwaying wit Takeshi-kun is best,” she replied, honestly. “But Tsuna-chan would like to pway with others, when Takeshi-kun is pwaying baseball.”

 

“You could play baseball with me,” her friend offered earnestly, “My friends could be your friends too!”

 

“Tsuna-chan doesn’t wike baseball,” Tsuna reminded him, matter-of-fact, “And Takeshi-kun’s fwiends are nice, but they won’t wike Tsuna-chan anymore, if she pways wit them. Tsuna-chan is very bad at pwaying baseball.”

 

The athletic prodigy winced, because ‘very bad’ was an understatement when Tsuna was allowed a baseball in her hands. Once again, he silently bemoaned that the two best things in his life were so obviously mutually exclusive.

 

“I can stop playing baseball instead,” Takeshi suggested, “We can color together instead.”

 

A niggling feeling inside of Tsuna recoiled from that statement, and a hint of orange entered her amber eyes. “No,” she stated stubbornly, “Takeshi wikes pwaying baseball. Tsuna-chan will pway too.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Takeshi said quickly, noticing the stubborn but unhappy expression on the brunette’s face. He considered his father’s words from the night before, and reluctantly conceded that maybe his old man was right. “I’ll play baseball, and Tsuna-chan can draw. We’ll find… other friends for you.”

 

Although Tsuna wasn’t the best person when it came to reading facial expressions, something instinctively told her that Takeshi wasn’t happy. She reacted in a manner perfectly aligned with her personality, and threw butter and salt stained hands around him. The bowl of popcorn was nearly tipped over between their laps.

 

“Takeshi is Tsuna’s  _ best  _ fwiend,” Tsuna whispered, a warm sense of approval spreading throughout her body, “He pways the most with Tsuna everyday, and he doesn’t mind if Tsuna pways with other fwiends, when he’s busy. Would he help Tsuna find another fwiend?”

 

“You want my help?” Takeshi asked, surprised. When he drew away from the hug, a more serene expression entered his eyes and made his body relax.

 

“Takeshi-kun knows Tsuna the most,” Tsuna suggested logically, “So he would know what Tsuna wants in a new fwiend, wight?”

 

“Right!” Takeshi beamed, “I think we should find a friend who’s nice, but not  _ too  _ nice, you know? Because Kyoko is a mur- er, Kyoko will want you to spend all her time with her! Then you won’t have time to play with me too.”

 

Tsuna looked at her friend strangely. “Takeshi-kun, you don’t wike Kyoko-chan?”

 

“Of course, I do,” Takeshi answered, laughing awkwardly, “But, come on, Tsuna-chan. Kyoko can’t be  _ that  _ nice, all of the time! It’s not natural!” 

 

xxxxx

 

Despite being a certified child genius, Hayato Gokudera couldn’t help but be relieved when the final school bell rang. The Sicily Mafia Academy was the preeminent underground school in Italy, but it didn’t believe in implementing a bullying policy. Children were often unkind all throughout the world, but mafia-born and raised kids added a notch in deliberately inflicted cruelty. Hayato was a new student with obviously foreign looks, so he had received his fair share of jeers and taunts so far.

 

_ ‘It could have been worse,’ _ the silver-haired boy reminded himself. The infamous gold symbol of the Vongola embossed on his bag had added some measure of protection, but it wasn’t enough. The Vongola was a massive famiglia, and no one knew how important he was in the hierarchy. Since there hadn’t been any mention of him before, the likeliest conclusion was that he was of minor importance.

 

‘ _ Just wait until I’m the Guardian of the Vongola Decimo, _ ’ Hayato thought savagely, as one of his classmates ‘accidentally’ crashed into him. The notebook fell from the five-year-old’s grip, causing a few students to giggle. His face reddening, Hayato quickly snatched it back up. ‘ _ We’ll see who’s laughing then. _ ’

 

The young boy was utterly determined to become one of Sawada-hime’s subordinates. He had taken his placement exams and chosen his classes with that final goal in his mind. Hayato’s schedule now had Advanced Literature, Advanced Maths, Honors Chemistry, Japanese Language Year 1, Japanese Culture and History, and Hand-to-Hand Combat Level 2. Along with his main courses, he had chosen Handling Explosives and Cooking as elective subjects. 

 

The latter was chosen partly for sentimental reasons- it reminded him of Bianchi- and partly for practical ones. While he gained a decent living allowance as a CEDEF trainee, the money would be depleted rapidly if he had to purchase healthy meals everyday. It was better to learn how to cook simple meals, and save the remainder of the money for the future.

 

His course load would have been difficult, even if Hayato hadn’t agreed to two hours of tutoring under Sawada Iemitsu everyday after school. However, one simply didn’t refuse personal tuition from the Young Lion of Vongola, and Hayato genuinely liked his first session. He and Basil had learned about the history of the Vongola, and Iemitsu had peppered his lesson with anecdotes about his family in Japan. Hayato practically soaked that information in, because he had a burning desire to know about the Sky that he may be lucky enough to bond with someday.

 

Two of the jackasses in his class were hovering by the door, undoubtedly expecting to challenge the new kid as he left the room. They were both older than him by a year or two, but Hayato didn’t pay that fact any mind. Instead, his foot rapidly struck out to kick one shin, and then two, and then the other shin of the first boy again, because he had thrown an eraser at Hayato’s head during the lecture. When the doorway was no longer obstructed, the silver-haired boy indifferently stepped out.

 

Inside, he was madly grinning at his action. Hayato hadn’t engaged any of his bullies before, at the risk of losing his first fight, but those two were perfect for establishing some respect. Neither were particularly big or strong, but Hayato couldn’t handle big and strong now. He needed an idiot that he could kick below him, because bottom-ranked students were victims while lower-middle ranked students were invisible.

 

And since Hayato was only staying here until he could speak Japanese adequately, he didn’t mind being invisible.

 

“Sir Hayato! Hast thou enjoyed thy lessons?” Basil’s chirping, birdlike voice managed to rise easily above the din of the hallway, as he hurried up to the smaller boy. The other students quickly parted for the Vongola Lion’s personal apprentice, and then looked at Hayato curiously, wondering how close they were. 

 

“It was okay,” Hayato shrugged. The older boy’s speech patterns had annoyed him at first, but he was a nice guy overall. It was a wonder that he was in the mafia at all. “The harassment wasn’t any worse than yesterday.”

 

A beatific smile crossed Basil’s face. “Wouldst thou prefer an _ intervention _ ?”

 

The sadistic glint in those blue eyes made the silver-haired boy gulp. “Er… no, that’s okay,” Hayato replied, hurriedly. Ah yes, that was why Basil was mafia material. 

 

As Basil led the way outside, where a CEDEF car would pick them up, Hayato racked his brain for something to say. “So, er, what do you think Iemitsu’s going to teach us today?”

 

“Master Iemitsu won’t be covering our lesson today,” Basil corrected, “Ms. Oregano will be teaching us how to use facial recognition software in a field setting.”

 

“Eh?” Hayato exclaimed, alarmed, “But I thought Iemitsu was our teacher!”

 

“He is,” Basil shrugged, “But he has many responsibilities as Head of CEDEF, so he only partakes in the occasional lesson. We’ll mostly be taught by his subordinates.”

 

Hayato’s face fell. “Dammit,” he muttered.

 

The blonde boy clapped his shoulder encouragingly. “Don’t worry,” his calm voice reassured, “I’m sure we’ll get another lesson from him soon.”

 

A teasing glint appeared in his eyes now. “Is thou still curious about thy fair maiden?”

 

Hayato tried valiantly not to blush, but his fair skin betrayed him, in the end. “Don’t speak of the Hime in such a manner,” he huffed.

 

“Hast thou wondered at the extent of her beauty?” Basil continued, smiling, “Ist thy mind’s scourge filled with thoughts of silken hair and perfumed skin? Ist thou consumed by the passion-”

 

“I’m five!” Hayato spluttered, skin rapidly shifting into crimson, “Get your mind out of the gutter, you weirdo!”

 

“I shan't judge you, my friend,” Basil announced, with fake solemnity, “If thou is need of a champion for thy fair maiden’s father…” The older boy trailed off, as his eyes fell on a disturbance several meters ahead of them.

 

Hayato followed his gaze to another blonde boy, eight or nine, that was in a screaming match with a silver-haired girl of the same age. No, Hayato blinked his eyes, that girl was actually a boy with long, silver hair, slate grey eyes, and familiar glass-paned features. Wasn’t that Squalo Superbi, the kid with the prodigal skills in swordsmanship?

 

“Dino never learns,” Basil sighed, from next to him. His hand flashed out to tug Hayato closer, and, despite the younger boy’s disdain for relying on another’s protection, he followed. Basil politely smiled at some of the other huddling students, until they shuffled aside, and then brought them to relative safety behind the lockers.

 

Carefully pasting his body against the metal, Hayato stuck his head out and observed the scene. The blonde haired boy was still yelling, while waving his hands in the air like an ineffective windmill, while Superbi watched. Although the boy with the infamous temper had a scowl on his face, he didn’t move to withdraw his sword.

 

“Why isn’t Superbi attacking him?” Hayato whispered. Because if he was capable of it, Hayato would have definitely attacked. The blonde boy’s high-pitched voice was annoying.

 

“That’s Dino Chiavarone,” Basil explained, “He’s the only legitimate heir of the Ninth Chiavarone Boss, but he’s also a klutz, and hates being part of the mafia. Thou willst notice that he gets into many arguments about his inheritance, but is usually safe from repercussion due to his family’s power.”

 

“You’re telling me that this kid gets a ready-made powerful position handed over to him, and he hates it?” Hayato said, incredulously, “And because he hates it, he goes around attacking people that can probably kill him with one hand behind their backs, but don’t,  _ because _ of said powerful position?”

 

“Essentially, yes,” Basil admitted, “Other than that, he is really quite nice.”

 

“What an idiot,” Hayato groaned, instinctively suppressing his jealousy, “Even if he doesn’t want to inherit, why is he antagonizing future assassins, hitmen, and mafioso? One of them could easily let their temper overcome their better sense, or even kill him secretly.”

 

“Like I said, Dino never learns,” Basil sighed, sitting down on the linoleum floor with an expression of distaste on his pretty boy features. “This shall take some time. Wouldst thou like help with thy homework, Sir Hayato?”

 

xxxxx


	8. Chapter 8

Tsuna still thought that her best friend’s suspicion of Kyoko-chan was unfounded, but then, Takeshi was still her best friend. Therefore, his happiness was much more important to the brunette girl than Kyoko’s company. So Tsuna played with Rei-chan and Megumi-chan, since they didn’t become too giggly when Takeshi dragged her away after baseball. They were the sort of friends that would wave to her on the street, but not invite her to play with them after school, to which Takeshi was content. 

 

Though Tsuna would have been hard-pressed to accept any after school invites, with all of the time she spent at TakeSushi or in playdates at the Sawada residence. Tsuyoshi-sensei had moved on to teaching them the proper way to throw and deflect punches, which Tsuna was having a blast with. The older man had learned that any fighting lesson coached in robot terms would gain Tsuna’s immediate acceptance, and took full advantage of that fact. That was why Tsuna’s arms were now ‘super cool laser blasters’ and her feet had ‘flying propulsion power’. 

 

Takeshi’s lessons though were coached in another way. “I’m going to be a samurai,” the dark-haired boy explained, matter-of-fact, “And you will be the robot princess that I’ll protect, Tsu-chan.”

 

The two children continued to learn the basics of self-defense in this manner, and spent the time that they did not, puzzling over Tsuna’s English worksheets, playing video games, or reading superhero comics. Tsuna found all of that to be enjoyable, but, every now and then, there was a day that she didn’t spend with her best friend. A rainy Saturday morning, when Takeshi was going to a fish market with his father, was one such day.

 

“Mama thought that Tsu-chan could help her make cookies, today,” Nana suggested hopefully, “We have lots of ingredients for Tsu-chan’s favorites.”

 

“Peanut butter and chocowate chip?” Tsuna perked up, “Mama, can we make some oatmewl ones twoo, for Papa?”

 

“I’m not sure if we can mail them to Papa…” Nana wondered aloud, “Ah, well. Mama will see what she can do. Maybe Papa’s nice friends could help?”

 

Tsuna nodded. She had met some of her Papa’s nice friends. There was that big, bald man in a crisp black suit that made him look a little like a penguin, and a nice, redhaired lady that patted her head. 

 

“Now, does Tsu-chan remember the first rule of helping Mama in the kitchen?” Nana asked sternly.

 

“Don’t twouch anythwing unwess Mama says it’s okway,” the amber-eyed girl responded obediently, “And don’t twouch the stove  _ at all  _ or Tsuna’s hands will hurt.”

 

“That’s my girl,” Nana said proudly, “Now, Mama’s going to preheat the oven, because that’s a big person job. Why don’t you put these papers on the baking sheet and then use this wooden spoon to cream the butter?”

 

Tsuna happily followed those directions, eagerly anticipating the soft deliciousness of a freshly baked cookie. Her mother added in another ingredients to Tsuna’s large bowl- peanut butters, sugar, eggs, flour- and Tsuna merely focused on repetitively stirring under it was fully mixed.

 

“Let’s add wots of chocowate chips!” Tsuna delightedly added fistfuls of the sweet confection to her bowl. “Mama, can we make smoothies too?”

 

“If that’s what my Tsu-chan wants,” her mother teased, dropping a light kiss on her head and picking up the bowl. She scooped the batter into round circles on the sheet, evenly spacing each cookie out. “Has Tsu-chan decided on her end-of-year project?”

 

“I wanna make a family twee,” Tsuna swung her legs on the kitchen chair, as the pan of cookies was slid into the oven, “Can we find pictures of Gi-o-to?”

 

‘ _ I don’t think Iemitsu would be pleased by such a blatant connection between the founder of Vongola and our little Tsu-chan, even if it is in a civilian school, _ ’ the older woman mused.

 

“Hm, perhaps something else, sweetheart?” Nana suggested, “A family tree is very nice, but those pictures would be with your Papa, and he might not be able to get them to us in time.”

 

Tsuna looked somewhat bewildered by the idea that her Papa wouldn’t be able to do something- which Nana thought was adorable- but she nodded. “Can we make a model of the ocean?”

 

“I’ll buy some blue paint tomorrow,” was Nana’s response. 

 

xxxxx

 

Back in Italy, Hayato had rapidly built a reputation as the quiet, intelligent, and standoffish kid that usually sat in the back of class. He hadn’t made any friends, but likewise, most of the bullying had ended. The silver-haired prodigy suspected Basil’s involvement in the matter, but he didn’t ask, and the old-fashioned older boy didn’t tell. Hayato also saw that loudmouthed Chiavarone heir around school sometimes, before he got pulled out for private tutoring. And the five-year-old bonded with the Head of CEDEF, over their shared favorite topic: Tsunami Sawada.

 

That was the topic he was considering now, as Hayato took out the chemical variety pack that all of the chemistry students had been required to purchase. Iemitsu claimed that Tsunami-hime liked to draw, which was a skill that she would undoubtedly be very proficient in. Did she prefer to sketch landscapes or portraits? Would she offer to draw a portrait of himself? Would Hayato be too presumptuous if he asked her to do so?

 

_ ‘Maybe if it was a class assignment, _ ’ Hayato daydreamed, ‘ _ Wouldn’t it be amazing to have Tsunami-hime ask  _ me _ to model for her homework? But… what if I’m not good enough? If I fidget too much, or look bad in paints, and then her grades suffer as a result? She would never forgive me! _ ’

 

“Mr. Gokudera, can you please answer the question?” Mr. Atkin’s dry voice broke through his panic attack, and Hayato looked towards the blackboard.

 

“A blasting cap is a small tube filled with volatile substances, such as mercury fulminate,” Hayato answered, receiving an approving nod. 

 

“Good, now blasting caps fall under the umbrella of initiators for common bombs,” the teacher continued, “While they are the main component to be considered in making those weapons, they actually cause less damage than the destructive objects that they propel. Common items to maximize damage and increase casualties are nails, screws, and ball bearings, that increase the reach of localised bombs. Are you taking note of this?”

 

Mr. Atkin’s lecture continued for another good twenty minutes, before he directed them to pair up and create a small bomb of their own. Hayato was going to stand up and head towards one of the other invisible kids, when a girl with blonde princess curls plopped down next to him. She wasn’t the most popular kid in the class, but definitely leagues above his social circle, so Hayato made to vacate the area. When a small foot firmly held the strap of his bag down, the five-year-old realized that, no, Camellia Beccio  _ had _ meant to sit with him.

 

She was from an Allied Famiglia, so Hayato snapped his lab goggles on, and offered her his least insincere smile. “Would you like to use my equipment, or yours?”

 

“Mine are already out,” Camellia gestured to the perfectly set up glassware, and adjusted her own protective eyewear, “Sorry about putting you on the spot like that, Hayato.”

 

The silver-haired boy looked around the class, and yes, there were definitely a few other members scowling at their team. They were probably annoyed at him, since he recognized at least one boy from the Difo famiglia, with a massive crush on Camellia. Hayato inwardly bemoaned his new status of visibility amongst his bigger, stronger classmates.

 

“It’s fine,” the boy grunted, because kicking Camellia Beccio in the shins would not have done him any favors, “Can you pass me the nitric acid?”

 

A 30% diluted container of clear liquid was passed to him, and Hayato neatly poured the requisite amount into his beaker. He added the yellow-tinged sulphuric acid, and felt his lips creep upward at the nitro-glycerine bubbling within. For all that Camellia pushed her company on him, she wasn’t too bad of a lab partner. She passed each of the requisite substances to him without complaint, and only made a face when some of the sloshing liquids scalded her fingers.

 

With Hayato focusing on the work, their team was the first one to complete its bomb. Mr. Atkins stood observantly beside them, as Hayato detonated the explosive in a contained zone at the back of class. The anticipation of the fire, the crackle of sparks, the loud, sudden boom of sound… Hayato thought he must have fallen in love.

 

As they returned to their table and began the cleanup process, Camellia initiated a conversation.

 

“Do you like explosives then?” she asked, putting her vials away.

 

Hayato blinked. “Well… yes? They’re awesome. Don’t you?”

 

“They’re too loud for me,” Camellia shrugged, “I would like a weapon that was more subtle, but not as boring as poison. I prefer to use acids.”

 

“Acids?” Hayato parroted.

 

A bright smile crossed the blonde girl’s face. “Yes! They form the most interesting holes when they’re burrowing through skin and bone… Hayato?”

 

The five-year-old had started to discretely scoot away, but paused at his name. “Er… yes, Camellia?”

 

A nervous expression crossed her face, and she began to twirl a lock of curly hair between her finger. “Well… you know I wanted to partner with you, so that we could have a chance to talk. Do you think you can answer a question for me?”

 

“Maybe?” Hayato asked, warily. He had just completed a wonderful bomb-making lab exercise, so he was predisposed to possibly entertain her undoubtedly silly question. A bright red blush crossed Camellia’s face, and the silver-haired boy knew that he was going to be annoyed by this.

 

“Well, Angie said that Basil likes Clara, but Bianca says that that can’t be true, because Basil didn’t even wave to her in the hallway last week and she was only trying to make me jealous, because she knew that _ I _ liked Basil. And I thought that since you were his best friend, then you would know who he really liked,” Camellia said, in a rush, “So my question is… does Basil like me?”

 

xxxxx

 

Tsuyoshi’s attempts to widen Nana’s social circle were not as successful as he’d hoped. While a few customers liked the brunette personally, they were not willing to risk social ostracization by associating with her publically. It didn’t help the situation that Nana, hurt by fickle friendships in the past, made every new acquaintance with the begrudging acceptance of a prisoner on death row. The chef was on the verge of giving it up, when the ringing bells of TakeSushi signalled the arrival of a customer.

 

“Good afternoon, Yamamoto-san,” the soft, cultured voice of the Triad’s Shadow Orchid was the last one that Tsuyoshi would have thought he’d hear in his humble shop. “May I have the sake niguri?”

 

“Of course, Hibari-san,” the sushi chef replied automatically, “Can I get you something to drink?”

 

“Water will be fine, thank you,” she answered. Petal-pink lips curved upwards in a gentle smile, and Tsuyoshi wondered if his knife throwing skills had gotten rusty. 

 

Hibari Aiko, niece of the Boss of the largest Chinese Triad, and wife of Hibari Norio, the chief executive of one of Japan’s largest security firms, was a stunning woman. Her liquid, ink-pool eyes and pale, moonlight-clear complexion almost made one forget that she had the highest kill count in Xianxia before retirement. And her graceful, clean-cut movements suggested that she hadn’t become any less dangerous since then.

 

Tsuyoshi began preparing the dish, while also keeping one eye on the patiently waiting Akio. The former assassin hoped to complete the sale with minimal interaction, but those hopes were soon dashed.

 

“This is a nice shop,” Akio commented, looking around approvingly, “So few people appreciate the old styles anymore.”

 

“Thank you,” Tsuyoshi’s voice was dry, “Wood muffles less noise than carpets, so I can recognize intruders more easily.”

 

Akio nodded, unfazed by his words. “It’s easier to clean up bloodstains. I’ve found that polish remover, coupled with soap and warm water, does wonders for the flooring.”

 

The dark-haired man didn’t know how to respond to that, but his response became moot a moment later. Nana Sawada returned from her bookkeeping sojourn, and Akio’s dark eyes swivelled unerringly to her.

 

_ ‘Dammit, I forgot that she was completing the tax forms today,’  _ Tsuyoshi thought, panicked,  _ ‘Now I have a quasi-retired mafioso and a flame-active civilian in the same room. At least, I know that CEDEF is keeping a protection detail on us. They should intervene if things get messy.’  _

 

Nana stared at the other woman, an unhappy droop of her lips occurring. She figured that this was yet another attempt to secure her a friend. “Hello,” the brunette sighed, “My name is Sawada Nana.”

 

Akio’s eyes lit up, and she was suddenly out of her seat, and clasping a startled Nana’s hands between her own. “I’m Hibari Akio,” she greeted warmly, as a spiral of cherry blossoms appeared behind her, “Let’s be friends, Sawada-san!”

 

A moment later, Akio cocked her head to the side, as a knife whistled past the space her head had occupied a second before. The glowing blade disrupted the illusion behind her, and Hibari paused her current beaming expression, to throw Tsuyoshi a dirty look.

 

_ ‘I know I wasn’t trying my best, but she dodged that too easily, _ ’ the sushi chef groaned, ignoring Nana’s gasp,  _ ‘I really am getting out of shape.’ _

 

“Why do you blasted Rains keeps draining the power out of my illusions?” Akio huffed, “That was a perfectly good use of Mist Flames.”

 

“Those were Mist Flames?” Nana asked, excitement replacing her apprehension, “So cool!” A wide smile crossed her own face, and the brunette woman subconsciously cast a shower of sparkles behind her. Akio re-employed her sakura blossoms, and the two attractive women were left grinning happily at one another. 

 

_ ‘I think I just became a third wheel, _ ’ Tsuyoshi sweatdropped, _ ‘Nana has the instincts of a Sky, so if she’s not worried, then I suppose Hibari means no harm. _ ’

 

“Your sparkles are quite becoming, Sawada-san,” Akio complimented, drawing the brunette closer to the table and depositing her in a seat across from her own, “Are you a Mist user?”

 

“Oh, no,” Nana shook her head, feeling pleasantly comfortable around the elegantly-dressed woman, “Mine are orange. I think they’re called Sky flames? And please, call me Nana.”

 

“Then I would be honored if you would call me Akio,” the Hibari refused to relinquish her hands, “You have Sky flames, and you’re absolutely adorable. No wonder Iemitsu couldn’t resist you.”

 

“You know Iemitsu?” Nana asked. She wondered if she should be distressed that her husband was on first-name basis with such a beautiful woman.

 

“We attended the same school as children,” Aiko answered vaguely, “So, you and your husband both have Sky flames. They’re so rare, that you’re the only couple I know with that shared ability. Has your daughter inherited those flames?”

 

At Nana’s hesitant nod, Akio’s smile notched another two levels in brightness. “How wonderful! I have Mist Flames, while my husband is a Cloud. Our son inherited both, but, unfortunately, he favors Norio’s side of the family. It’s all very tragic, really.”

 

“Is your son named Kyoya?” Nana inquired, “I think he attends a class two levels above Tsu-chan? She said that he stopped some of the older boys from bullying one of her classmates.”

 

“That’s my Kyo-chan,” Akio affirmed, with obvious fondness, “He has a strong interest in keeping the peace. We’re very proud of him.”

 

“I’m glad that some of Tsu-chan’s upperclassman are against bullying,” Nana said, concern entering her eyes, “Doesn’t he get hurt from entering many fights?”

 

“Kyoya practices martial arts with me everyday,” Akio assured, “I’m not as good as my older brother, Fon, but I’m no slouch either. How about your daughter?”

 

“Tsu-chan is lucky enough to be learning self-defense under Tsuyoshi,” Nana replied brightly, “She practices with Tsuyoshi’s son, Takeshi, everyday, after school. She has a lot of fun with it.”

 

Aiko nodded. “It’s better to learn these things with a friend. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find anyone that Kyoya can practice against. He can only learn so much from sparring with adults, after all, and I’m worried that he isn’t making enough friends, his own age.”

 

By then, Tsuyoshi had brought the sushi platter over, and Aiko was forced to release her vice grip on Nana’s hands, in order to eat the meal. The two women continued to chatter under Tsuyoshi’s amused eyes, and, before he knew it, the dark-haired man had been volunteered to oversee Kyoya's lessons twice a week and a weekend playdate at the Sawada residence had been arranged for all three kids.

 

xxxxx

 

_ ‘I have to admit, Lussuria is a fantastic interior decorator,’  _ Iemitsu reluctantly admitted, admiring the brightly-painted fresco mural of the Ionian Sea, ‘ _ I wonder if I can convince him to consult for CEDEF’s design plan later. _ ’

 

The blonde man had been invited into the Varia Manor by Xanxus, ostensibly to meet his new Rain Officer, but probably to receive another pitch from the dark-haired man. In response, Iemitsu had swallowed two different general poison antidotes, littered his clothing with small blades, and imbued his arms with passively-sifting orange flames. Then he arrived at a sunny, airy, and well-furnished mansion that didn’t look at all suitable for a group of independent assassins. 

 

“Voi! You’re the leader of CEDEF, then?” The teen had ash-silver hair that could only belong to a Superbi, but Iemitsu didn’t recognize him on sight. He must have been a recent graduate of the Academy. “Boss sent me here to pick you up.”

 

“Well, we don’t want to keep him waiting, then,” Iemitsu responded, standing up, “Iemitsu Sawada. Are you the new Rain Officer?”

 

He hadn’t actually expected a positive response, so Iemitsu’s face briefly showed his shock when the brat proudly nodded. He quickly schooled it back into his default grinning expression, as the blonde’s mind whirled furiously in the background. What the hell? Xanxus was cradle-robbing Guardians now?

 

‘ _ Urgency? Desperation? Arrogance? Preparation? _ ’ Iemitsu discarded all but the latter. ‘ _ You don’t make hasty choices with a Guardian. _ ’

 

“We’ll be working together in the future then!” Iemitsu said, brightly, “Let’s get to know each other, a little better, Superbi. What’s your favorite color?”

 

“Heh?” the brat gawked at him, “Voi! How is that any of your business?”

 

“It’s important bonding business,” the blonde man insisted, “How can we be friends if I don’t even know your favorite color?”

 

“Voi! We are not becoming friends!” the Rain Officer exclaimed. 

 

“What?! You don’t want to be my friend?” Iemitsu wailed, “Why are you so cruel to me, Supeerbbiii?” 

 

The teenager looked at him in a mixture of horror and disgust, clearly wondering how he could be the Vongola External Advisor, while Iemitsu continued to sob. When the blonde man tried to throw his arm around the silver-haired teen’s shoulder, Superbi flailed backwards and nearly jumped two feet away.

 

‘ _ Inverted Storm. No automatic flinch. Had a stable childhood, _ ’ Iemitsu automatically catalogued, ‘ _ Inexperienced, but good reaction speed. Hand moved towards back, so he probably employs a long-ranged weapon. Didn’t Basil mention a swordsman prodigy in the upper years? Scappy? Scallop? Squally? Squalo? Squalo! _ ’

 

“We’re here,” Squalo Superbi said hurriedly, nearly shoving Iemitsu through the door. Then he turned to hurriedly walk-not-run away.

 

“Bye, Squalo!” Iemitsu shouted, waving his arm enthusiastically at the boy’s back. The teen jumped a little, which gratified him immensely, but had too much self-control to look back, much to Iemitsu’s disappointment. ‘ _ Oh, well. I’ll get him next time. _ ’

 

“Are you done abusing my subordinates, trash?” Xanxus drawled from the corner. He had taken the seat with the best view of the room, which relegated Iemitsu to one that had three different blind spots. Since the dark-haired man’s eyes were all but glittering in challenge, the Sawada grit his teeth and took the proffered seat.

 

“What happened to the more respected ‘Sawada’, or the occasional ‘sir’?” Iemitsu complained, leaning his chair back until it balanced on two legs. His flame senses were firmly attuned to the other man’s movements, but this allowed him a slightly better vantage point to any other intruders in the room. He could already spot Belphegor’s signature blonde locks.

 

“You already made it clear that you won’t support my candidacy for Decimo… trash,” Xanxus snorted, taking a big gulp of a dark red liquid. Logically, Iemitsu knew that the younger man was merely drinking wine, but the image it primed did make his subconscious recoil. 

 

_ ‘Shame that my personality can’t pull that trick off, _ ’ Iemitsu thought, ‘ _ Point to you, Xanxus.’ _

 

“Then why did you call me here?” Iemitsu asked curiously, “Unless you’re doing this on behalf of Frederico?”

 

A choking sound came from the scarred man that could almost be mistaken for laughter. “You know he has three brats running around Italy, don’t you? And there’s one wearing his face in France.”

 

Iemitsu didn’t bother to hide the grimace on his face. Nono’s third son was even more embarrassing than the kinslayer sitting in front of him now. At least Xanxus- ruthless, mercurial, vengeful, and reckless, though he may be- could keep it in his pants.

 

“Do you know who killed Massimo?” Xanxus asked next, making the blonde man blink at the random turn. “We think it was a member of Varia.”

 

_ ‘Well, yes, obviously, _ ’ Iemitsu’s eyes flickered around the room again, ‘ _ You’re the one who killed them, and you’re the damn Boss of the organization. _ ’ Xanxus read something in his non-expression that he didn’t like, because a small growl escaped the violent assassin’s throat.

 

“Mamnon has this entire room cloaked, which is the only reason why I’m going to tell you this, trash,” Xanxus leaned forward, baring his teeth, “I did not kill Enrico Vongola.”

 

“You admit to killing Massimo, then?” Iemitsu answered swiftly, his mind still stuck on the previous statement. ‘ _ There’s nothing that Xanxus hates more than liars.’ _

 

“I saved you the trouble of killing him yourself,” the man shot back, “Don’t tell me that you would support  _ his _ candidacy for Decimo.”

 

“That wasn’t your choice to make,” Iemitsu responded, “Especially since you left enough evidence behind to implicate Varia.”

 

“No thanks to you, trash,” Xanxus shot back, “That was the entire damn point of using those bullets! Then you went and muddied up the trail by adding all of those other suspects.”

 

“...Were you trying to get yourself caught?” There was genuine befuddlement in the blonde’s voice, and that, more than anything else, seemed to relax Xanxus. A hint of amusement even entered the cruel twist of his lips.

 

“Let’s get a few cards set on the table,  _ Sawada _ ,” Xanxus paused, inflicting a hint of derision on the Japanese surname, “I’m loyal to Vongola, and so are you. Both of us want the best for the future, and that means a Decimo that can get shit done. Enrico wasn’t the best option, but he was the eldest, and I would have accepted his candidacy. Massimo is a joke, and Federico is a dead man walking. Right now,  _ I’m _ the best choice for Decimo.”

 

_ ‘And from a completely objective viewpoint, that may even be true,’ _ Iemitsu considered, ‘ _ The problem is that the two of us are loyal to completely different Vongola. You’re loyal to an untouchable ideal, and you don’t care how many lives have to be lost in pursuit and defense of that Vongola. I’m loyal to the imperfect, somewhat corrupt, but generally loyal famiglia that exist here and now, and I won’t let you drive that to the ground. _ ’ 

 

“I’m not supporting you for Decimo, Xanxus,” the Head of CEDEF said bluntly. Then, because the hurtful fury entering the other Sky’s eyes drew a measure of reckless sympathy from him, he added. “I  _ cannot  _ support you for Decimo, Xanxus.”

 

The younger man’s eyes glowed burnished red-gold, chips of molten lava taking the place of unyielding obsidian, and Iemitsu circulated more Sky flames throughout his body. When he was a heartbeat away from activating his birthright, Xanxus’ eyes went blank. A horribly empty blank that Iemitsu’s intuition warned him meant ‘ _ danger _ ’ and ‘ _ change _ ’ and ‘ _ worry for him _ ’.

 

‘ _ Xanxus is fifteen years old, and why do I keep forgetting about that whenever I think of him? _ ’ Iemitsu wondered.

 

“You’re the Head of CEDEF, so it’s your job to ferret out the traitor that killed Enrico,” Xanxus growled, tossing his wine glass to the wall. The delicate chime of glass cracking against stone didn’t draw Iemitsu’s attention away from his adopted cousin. “Get to fucking work, trash, and prove that you’re not the complete moron that everyone thinks you are!”

 

With that positive message, Iemitsu was promptly thrown out of the Varia Mansion, as Xanxus declared their meeting finished. As he rode away, the blonde man couldn’t push away the insistent feeling that he’d  _ failed _ somehow, and that he should have done more for Vongola, for Xanxus. Iemitsu almost ordered the driver to turn around, so he could march back up the Varia’s cobblestone path, and drag his younger cousin to… what? How could he possibly get through to the impetuous, thick headed, and temperamental Xanxus Vongola?

 

_ ‘I’ll give him some space to cool off,’ _ Iemitsu reassured himself, ‘ _ Then I’ll visit tomorrow and invite him to lunch or something. _ ’

 

Less than seven hours later, Xanxus led his Varia Officers in a coup d’etat against the Vongola Ninth.

 

xxxxx

 

_ On the subject of Tsuna’s tutor, I’ve decided on primarily Lal Mirch, with the assistance of Skull. I’ve already discussed the reasons with Brighter Dreams- great review by the way- but have summarized them below. The reasons are thus: _

 

_ Fon: Though it’s unanimously agreed that he’s awesome, he can’t suddenly drop his work with the Chinese Triads to tutor Tsuna. Unfortunately. I also want to avoid the classic ‘meeting the Hibari's and teaching nephew’s friends’ routine. Maybe I could have him do the occasional lecture? _

 

_ Verde: His perverted, experimental nature, and Iemitsu being very much not-okay with that. _

 

_ Colonello: Mafia Land, which is a fulltime position, and thus not available for tutoring. _

 

_ Aria: Head of an allied famiglia, and thus not available for tutoring. _

 

_ Viper: Allied with Xanxus, and thus not available for tutoring. _

 

_ The reasons why I chose the tutors are: _

 

_ Lal Mirch: She’s Iemitsu’s direct subordinate, a strong female role model, and can teach Tsuna about the pitfalls of being a woman mafioso. _

 

_ Skull: A lot of people are convinced that he’s secretly a badass- as compared to Fon, who is  _ obviously _ a badass- with less fighting oriented skills to teach Tsuna  & Co. And also, because Skull is a stuntman who probably knows acrobatics and parkour, and I really want Tsuna to develop parkour as her secondary skill. _

 

_ (Also, while everyone supplied advantages and drawbacks for each of the Arcobaleno candidates, there was not a single piece of criticism for Fon. If anyone mentioned the Storm Arcobaleno, than it was solely to praise him. Just an interesting note).  _


	9. Chapter 9

There were seventeen headless chickens running around the room, and Iemitsu calculated that only three of them were too invaluable to go through with snapping their necks. Then he remembered that his baby cousin had orchestrated a coup d’état against the Vongola Ninth, and decided that panicked, incompetent subordinates were better than no subordinates at all.

“Lal, I want every Varia members’ whereabouts for the last two weeks accounted for, excluding those on missions abroad,” the blonde man ordered, “Get someone to recall all CEDEF members on non-critical missions in the country back to headquarters, and initiate Level Two lockdown. Deploy standard procedure on Vongola-controlled territory, copy and delete the footage from the Ninth’s cameras, and set up a protection detail around Frederico Vongola.”

“Yes, sir!” Beyond the paleness of Lal’s skin, there were no indications of the shock and fear that Iemitsu could practically feel emanating from his Cloud Guardian. Her military training had kicked in, and she was every bit the professional and disciplined second-in-command that Lal prided herself on being. “Do you want the Vongola heir moved to the Ninth’s mansion?”

“No,” Iemitsu hesitated, briefly considering the options before him, “The Ninth is now under CEDEF detail, with contact only to be allowed to his Guardians, Reborn, myself, or you, acting on my behalf.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?” the blue-haired toddler asked, ready to act on his orders.

“Varia doesn’t have many medical professionals,” Iemitsu mused, “Gather all of the active Suns on personnel, and have them offer healing to the Varia prisoners. Then, call Dr. Shamal, and tell him that I’m cashing in on that favor from his little Storm. He needs to bug as many Varia officers as he can- innocent and guilty- with a short-term, easily traced illness, with violent side-effects. Finally, find me some cryonics expert- civilian, if necessary- and recruit them to CEDEF immediately.”

Lal had too much self-control to show the surprise on her face. “Sir?”

 

“I’ll be visiting the Ninth’s Mansion now,” the Lion of Vongola continued blithely, as though one of the biggest tragedies in Vongola history hadn’t occurred mere hours ago, “I trust that you’ll have this situation handled by the time I get back.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” the former soldier said, pride visibly straightening her frame. “Perhaps I should arrange a guard for you, sir? As a high-profile member of the Vongola, you might be a target for whoever is trying to destabilize the famiglia.”

Iemitsu’s immediate reaction was to snap that as a fully trained Sky, he didn’t  _ need _ a complement of guards, before his sensible side kicked in, and pointed out how arrogant that reaction would be. Then it reminded him that Lal was only suggesting this out of genuine concern for his safety, and that he would be a complete and utter dick, if he reacted to her concern in that manner.

“Two,” the blonde man allowed reluctantly, and a pleased smile crossed Lal’s face. She looked towards the group of agents that had been shamelessly eavesdropping on them, and two of them stepped forward. A heavyset, bald man and a delicate, fine-boned woman, that specialized in close-quarters combat and long-distance sharpshooting respectively.

_ ‘Oh God, my subordinates have  _ systems _ set up for this, _ ’ Iemitsu thought, inwardly impressed by Lal’s initiative. ‘ _ Sometimes I think she’s just too good of a right-hand. _ ’

“There’s a car waiting for you outside, Boss,” Pricilla nearly ran in, clearly angling for left-hand.

“I’ll send a driver to pick up Basil and Hayato,” Turmeric added, proving that even near-catastrophes wouldn’t get in the way of office politics.

“You do that,” Iemitsu said, wryly, and then stalked outside to the idling black car. The barely-controlled fury inside of him stoked his flames, and an acrid smell began to fill the ground floor as the linoleum floors developed burning imprints of the Sawada’s feet. A few deep breaths drew his flames deeper into his body, where Iemitsu mentally coiled it together into one deeply-compressed sphere.

‘ _ Why the hell would Xanxus stage a coup against his own father? _ ’ Iemitsu seethed, ‘ _ Maybe he was a little upset over the adoption issue, but this was a well-executed, planned… dammit, think Sawada! What information do you have? One, Enrico and Massimo Vongola were both murdered. Two, the best evidence collected points to Varia agents as perpetrators. This means one of three things, that Varia agents killed them, that an enemy famiglia killed them and framed Varia agents, or that a Varia agent killed them to frame another Varia agent.’ _

Iemitsu’s fingers began to randomly tap the opening the Mozart’s Moonlight Sonata, as the facts ping-ponged through his mind. _ ‘Three, both heirs may not have been killed by the same perpetrator. Xanxus claimed to have killed Massimo, but he’s not exactly a trustworthy witness. Not to mention that Massimo’s body was… drowned? Lal mentioned internal hemorrhaging, but how deep…? _ ’

“And pop goes the weasel,” Iemitsu hummed, ignoring the freaked out look on his guards’ faces. The Sawada’s blue-grey eyes glittered maliciously, as he unclipped his phone and pressed the first number on speed dial, “Lal? How deep was the lake that Massimo was drowned in?”

At the subsequent answer, Iemitsu smiled. It wasn’t one of his normal smiles- the goofy, naïve one that he employed for work, or the wide, cheerful one that he used for his family. This smile was dark and triumphant; it was the same one sixteen-year-old Iemitsu Sawada wore when he tracked down the bastard that put out a hit on his mother.

“Approximating the amount of time Massimo spent underwater, with the addition of transportation to the nearest body of salt water of appropriate depth, and maybe one hour for kidnapping, can you estimate the duration of absence necessary for the crime? Then, cross-reference it with the schedules of the Varia officers preceding and following the date of Massimo’s murder, beginning from the top,” Iemitsu ordered, “Get me a list of all agents that fit that time span, and then narrow the criteria with high intelligence, noted sadistic tendencies and sharpshooting ability. Have all those suspects tracked under high-priority labels.”

‘ _ Xanxus, you stupid, reckless, prideful,  _ noble _ bastard,’  _ Iemitsu thought, forced to acknowledge that the selfish brat of his childhood had grown into a slightly less selfish man of his own power, ‘ _ You knew who the traitor was, and did everything you could to paint it out for me. Now, if only you weren’t so damned distrustful about everything. _ ’

By the time that Iemitsu had come to his realization, and had moved on to berating himself for ignoring the clues in favor of pushing his daughter’s candidacy, the car had arrived. He allowed Agent Adriano to step out before him, falling neatly into the man’s behemoth’s shadow, and extending his  _ Hyper Intuition _ into the air around him.  

Had Iemitsu not been prepared for it, the feelings of horror, panic, pain, and sorrow would have utterly drowned him in their scope and intensity. As it was, the blonde man had to resist the urge to wrap as many of the suffering people as possible into a comforting cloak of his own flames, and thus, merely extended it to the CEDEF agents following him. Agent Maria’s footsteps faltered briefly, as the warm reassurance of Sky Flames enwrapped her anxieties, but the subsequent click-clack of her sensible shoes held a certain confidence that the former walk lacked.

The hallways of the Ninth’s Mansion were nearly deserted, and beyond a set of bodyguards stationed at the perimeter, Iemitsu could only sense a gathering of warm bodies in the second conference room. It filled him with a sense of pride to know that CEDEF agents stationed at the Mansion had reacted so quickly to shut all body flows down, even if he found minor holes in the security that should have been patched up.

‘ _ I knew having an annual practice run wasn’t enough preparation _ ,’ Iemitsu mentally griped, ‘ _ As soon as I get this matter settled, Vongola-direct agents will be recalled to complete a dozen more run-throughs. Then someone can explain to me why the kitchen isn’t being staffed by an agent now. _ ’

Not only was the kitchen a common access point for internal sabotage, but Iemitsu would never feel comfortable accepting a drink from another Vongola branch that hadn’t been prepared by his agents. Even if it wasn’t sabotaged, he’d probably be stuck with that caffeine-drenched cappuccino a certain hitman preferred.

‘ _ Speak of the devil, and his cutesy orange hat and curly sideburns shall appear _ ,’ the Head of CEDEF thought, eyes sweeping across the room. Along with the world’s deadliest baby, Nono had gathered his Guardians, several Varia agents, and the Department Heads of Vongola Medical, Personnel, Security, and External Liaisons.

“Ah, Iemitsu, I’m glad you’re here,” Nono greeted, his old age and frail body firmly pushed behind the mantel of a man that led Vongola for almost three decades now, “Please sit down.”

“Your guards will have to stand though,” Reborn’s childish voice piped up, “I’m surprised that you brought them along, Iemitsu.”

“I wanted to make sure that you had a playmate available, Reborn,” Iemitsu shot back, disregarding the empty seat across from Nono that had been reserved for him, and sitting instead, at the end of the table, “One can keep you company, while the other fetches snacks, toys, blankets, and such.”

“You always go to so much effort for me, Iemitsu,” Reborn replied, beaming, “I’ll have a cappuccino then. Make sure to buy me a good one, or I’ll have to shoot the messenger _.” _

“No need,” Iemitsu made a sharp gesture with his right hand, “Adriano makes an excellent cappuccino. I’m not particularly fond of the drink myself, but Lal swears by it.”

Lal had chosen a good agent, because Adriano’s features didn’t change at all, as he obediently left the room. Reborn raised a hand to tug at his left sideburn, and Iemitsu casually turned his gaze towards the right side of the table. The long-suffering look on Nono’s face suggested that he was done indulging their all-too-often similar antics, and Iemitsu wisely decided not to press the issue.

‘ _ Clear, clear, clear, clear, ooh, Glasses must be the  _ messenger _ , _ ’ Iemitsu thought, without enthusiasm. Aloud, he said, “When did Ottabio blow the whistle about the coup d’état?”

The reactions of the rest of the table were immediate. Nono’s face was resigned, his Guardians, surprised, but not enough to suggest ignorance of the matter, the Department Heads shocked, and Ottabio, briefly stunned. And Reborn, obviously, exuded the smugness of a well-satisfied cat. It would have been suspicious, if smug was not Reborn’s default mood.

“Thank you, Iemitsu,” the Ninth said, dryly, “I hadn’t gotten around to sharing that piece of intelligence yet, so it’s nice to see that CEDEF is doing  _ something _ right.”

‘ _ Ouch. Nono really doesn’t mince words, does he? _ ’ Iemitsu quietly tapped a message on his knee. He had always had restless hands as a child, and his mother’s response to that had been to sign him up for piano classes. They were an effective method of torturing a nominally adventurous child, but had the unexpected side effect of being a memory aid.

The Ninth began his debriefing, and the entire, chilling story spilled out. In broad strokes, Xanxus had decided to take control of the Vongola by force-  _ wrongwrongwrong,  _ his Intuition shrieked- and recruited his personal Guardians to do so. They had infiltrated the Vongola Mansion, attacked Nono, and were narrowly defeated when the Ninth employed the Zero Point Breakthrough technique on his adopted son. The Guardians had immediately surrendered thereafter, but the entire operation may have been successful, if not for the timely intervention of Ottabio. Xanxus had been removed to a secluded location, and his disloyalty was not to be spread outside of this room.

‘ _ Good luck with that, _ ’ Iemitsu inwardly mused, eyeing the look of barely hidden glee on Glasses’ face,  _ ‘Would be a hypocrite if I blamed him for trying to move up the ranks, but damn, if that incompetence isn’t galling _ .’

Ottabio was an independent assassin, and a good one too, if he had risen to second-in-command of Varia, but he was no covert operations specialist. Nor had he been schooled in backroom politics from a young age, like Iemitsu had, and so, his backstabbing hadn’t been as thorough as it should have been.

‘ _ Bet he’s a dick to the underlings _ ,’ Iemitsu sneered, ‘ _ They’d be the first to air his dirty laundry, if he couldn’t employ a measure of basic decency. _ ’

Now that the blonde thought about it, being rude to the subordinates and the help had never been a problem of Xanxus’. Not that his baby cousin had been particularly respectful of them, but at least he was a jerk to everyone in equal measure. He treated Iemitsu with just as much irreverence and scorn as he did the Varia laundress.

“Does this make Frederico the presumptive heir?” the Department Head of External Liaison blurted out first, causing a blank, yet somehow disapproving, expression to cross the Ninth’s face.

“That hasn’t been decided yet,” Nono replied, forcing Iemitsu to tightly clench his hand to prevent his smile from showing. His Tsu-chan was now officially in the running for Decimo! “Next question.”

Iemitsu leaned back, and took a calm sip of the bittersweet green tea that Adriano had brought back. Across from him, Reborn mirrored the gesture with a tall Styrofoam cappuccino, and the Left and Right Hands of the Vongola Ninth exchanged mutually dark smirks. It was times like this that almost made Iemitsu like Reborn. Almost.

The next few questions regarded the security of the building, Vongola’s official message to their allied famiglia, Vongola’s unofficial message to neutral or enemy famiglia, and what should should be done about the treasonous Varia officers.

“We don’t exactly have a lot of Quality assassins available for Vongola,” Iemitsu pointed out, ignoring the Medical Head pontificating about making an example out of them, “Oh, shut up, Tomas. You have no idea what you’re talking about. I suggest that we have them monitored for the next two years, and, given good behavior, forgive their actions.”

“That’s barely a punishment!” the Personnel Head exclaimed, astonished, “I would like to remind you, Iemitsu, that they tried to assassinate the Boss!”

“And I would like to remind  _ you _ , Anna, that you should really be focusing on your areas of expertise, as CEDEF  _ still  _ hasn’t gotten their severance packages and dental plans drawn up,” the blonde man snarked, “The backlog in your department suggests that mass firings need to be held, but, since that falls under your purview, I doubt it’ll get done anytime in this decade.”

“Sawada isn’t wrong,” Reborn added, refusing to link the word ‘correct’ to the brightly grinning man, “We need assassins, but we can’t skip punishment for treasonous acts. How about five years, with the first two years monitored by both CEDEF and Vongola officers, garnished pay, and temporary sealing of flames?”

“Not a chance,” Iemitsu immediately responded, “CEDEF refuses to share monitoring duties with another group within the Vongola. That is a precedent will not be set while I’m in office.”

Reborn cocked his lime-green gun in an obvious challenge, and Iemitsu’s eyes were shuttered in orange discs in response. Between them sprung an atmosphere of such tension, that most of the other Mafioso had to shrink back, lest they catch either one’s attention. Then Nono gave a pointed cough, and the oppressive atmosphere suddenly disappeared, leaving an innocently-blinking toddler and a goofily-smiling fool in its place.

The discussion moved forward, and Iemitsu’s attention began to wander as the details of Xanxus’ Guardians punishments were hashed out. Some of them, he knew, were entirely for show. Everyone who was anyone, meaning at least half the people in this room, had guessed that Mamnon doubled as the Mist Arcoboleno, Viper, and no one wanted to test his loyalty through wage garnishment. Sure, he had proved to be more loyal to Xanxus than to Vongola, but coming in second was fine, when the first was trapped in a prison of ice.

When that question had been thoroughly answered, the subject moved to Frederico’s security.

“Are you handling it?” Nono asked Iemitsu bluntly, ignoring the requisite Head’s specialty.

“Yes,” Iemitsu nodded, knowing that this action had cost him a bit of political goodwill. “I’ll have him transferred to Daniel’s contingent as soon as I can.” The Head of the Security Division nodded to him, and Iemitsu mentally calculated the cost of the wine needed to smooth this faux pas over.

Nono must have been really mad at him, to engage in the sort of petty, underhanded tricks that Reborn and Iemitsu regularly played on one another. The thought of the older man’s ire, caused a feeling of discomfort and guilt to press in his belly, which was something that Iemitsu hadn’t felt since he had been a teenager.

‘ _ I don’t want to even think about how bad it’ll be when he learns about Ottabio’s treachery, _ ’ Iemitsu cringed, ‘ _ It’s not that I don’t want to tell him. It’s simply that he’ll screw everything up if I- oh, damn. I think I’m empathizing with Xanxus now. No amount of sake will ever make that okay. _ ’

When the conversation was done, an exhausted Nono dismissed everyone from the room, and Iemitsu gestured for his guards to follow them. He didn’t move from his chair, and neither did Reborn, causing the Ninth to put on spread his thumb and forefinger on his temple, and begin to massage it.

“Out with it,” the old man ordered, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Do you have another candidate for Tenth locked away?” Reborn’s question was short, blunt, and merciless, and even Iemitsu was momentarily surprised by how quickly the hitman had squirrelled out the truth. The Ninth merely pointed towards the Head of CEDEF, and the baby hitman groaned.

“He has spawn now?” Reborn had the audacity to add a note of horror to his voice, “God help us all.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Iemitsu cheerfully replied, “What do you plan to do with Xanxus?”

“The punishment will be my own to decide,” Nono answered, a brief look of surprise crossing his face at Iemitsu’s almost-show of concern, “Good day, gentlemen.”

Then, the Ninth determinedly marched out of the room, Reborn’s keen black eyes focused on him, and Iemitsu decided that he had best make himself scarce. He had a lot to do after all. There were traitors to be hunted down, agents to be marshalled, and cute little potential Guardians to be sent abroad.

x

Tsuyoshi hands deftly sliced the crisp vegetables on the cutting board, even as his mind wandered the information that he had received today. The news had been intentionally vague; apparently, something difficult had come up at work, and Iemitsu would be unable to travel abroad for at least the next two years. Nana had responded to this news exactly as the sushi chef could have predicted, by cancelling the playdates, clinging to her daughter, and (secretly) crying about her forced separation from her spouse for upwards of two years.

The former assassin had been entirely at a loss on how to deal with the sobbing woman, but did his best to show his support byway of pre-made meals and transporting Tsuna to and from school. He had also done his best to talk the brunette out of some of her more outlandish ideas, like flying to Italy and joining the mafia to be closer to Iemitsu.

Tsuyoshi could acknowledge the unfairness of the woman’s position. Nana had been forced into a situation where she was loved by- and deeply in love with- a man who held the second most powerful position in the Vongola Famiglia, completely without her knowledge. Iemitsu was torn between his love for his family and his loyalty to his famiglia, and while the former took precedence in the most desperate of situations, Nana’s loneliness wouldn’t qualify as such. It would have been different had she known what she was getting into, but when Nana first married the blonde man, she had done so with the understanding that he was a foreign construction worker.

Regardless, the very nature of their marriage, and Tsuyoshi’s own understanding of Iemitsu’s personality, suggested that Nana was stuck in her position. If she ever asked for a divorce, then Vongola would pull strings for Iemitsu to be awarded full custody of their daughter, because Vongola Primo’s bloodline simply couldn’t be lost to the civilian gene pool. That was assuming that it would even proceed to a court case, as Skies had an unfortunate tendency of  _ persuading  _ their partners to agree with their opinions. Sawada hadn’t struck him as the type to enthrall his wife, and Nana didn’t bear the glassy eyes, hazy countenance, or slipshod memory of an enthralled spouse, but love could push a man to desperate means.

Not to mention that CEDEF had a higher body count than Varia, since the former dealt with wholesale massacre of enemy famiglia, while the former dealt with high-profile, difficult-to-secure targets.

That had only been half of Sawada’s message though. The other half mentioned that one of his subordinates, his personal apprentice, and a potential Storm Guardian were on a plane heading to Japan, which opened an entirely different can of worms for Tsuyoshi. Previously, he had allowed his son to build up a friendship with Tsunami, free of the expectations and pressures of developing a Guardian bond, and, in response, their friendship and bond had grown remarkably. Now another boy, with knowledge about the process, was travelling to Naminori, and Tsuyoshi would be doing his son a great disservice, if he left him ignorant.

So, Tsuyoshi had been forced to sit his son down, and give him the Talk.

Not the one about dating, sexual intercourse, and sexually-transmitted diseases, that Tsuyoshi would have to give before high school, but the mafia one regarding flames. He had briefly covered the different flame types, the potential to develop Guardian bonds with an unattached Sky, how they were connected to the mafia, and the importance of Omerta.

“Tsuna is a Sky, isn’t she?” was Takeshi’s immediate response, after the former assassin invited his son to ask any questions.

“Yes, she is,” Tsuyoshi nodded. “She’s been flame-active since before her fourth birthday.”

The dark-haired boy gave a slow, considering nod. “That’s why you started to train her?”

“Like I said, her father promised me a payment that I couldn’t refuse,” Tsuyoshi answered, shrugging.

Takeshi’s lips began to droop down. “To be my friend?”

“What? No, not at all!” the older man hurried to assure the distressed child, shaking his head. “Tsuna is your friend because she chooses to be.”

“Am I her friend because she’s a Sky?” Takeshi asked, a look of insecurity entering her face.

“No,” Tsuyoshi answered firmly, “Skies can actively compel other people to be kind to them, but that takes some power and a fine degree of control. Tsuna can’t do anything like that, and do you honestly think that she would be the type of girl to do so?”

Takeshi shook his head negative. “No, Tsuna’s better than that, but…” he hesitated, “Am  _ I _ taking advantage of Tsuna because I want her to be my Sky?”

“Takeshi, you didn’t even know that flames existed before today,” Tsuyoshi answered, “How could you take advantage of Tsuna?”

“Then she’s not my Sky?” Takeshi’s shoulders drooped down now, and his father briefly wondered how his son managed to make the worst assumption of everything he said.

“Okay, let me try this again,” Tsuyoshi muttered, “Tsuna is a Sky, you’re a Rain, and the two of you have started forming a Guardian bond. That is a completely natural and wonderful process, in which neither of you took advantage of the other. The Guardian bond happened because you two are such close,  _ genuine _ friends, and it means is that you’ll become even more attuned to one another in the future. There are some other advantages that currently do not apply, because you’re too young. Understand?”

His son nodded happily, and then a frown crossed his face. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Tsuyoshi Yamamoto stared at his son blankly. For a moment, he was under the horrible suspicion that the Vongola  _ Hyper Intuition _ was contagious, before his common sense reasserted itself, and Tsuyoshi was reminded that he simply had a very observant little boy.

“Right, I wanted to do this, so you won’t become jealous of someone who’ll arrive from Italy soon,” Tsuyoshi sighed, “Like you, he is likely to become a Guardian for Tsuna, which means that they’ll share a close friendship. The important thing for you to remember is that  _ you _ will likely form a close friendship with him too. Guardians are permanent, lifetime positions, and, since you’ll share a Sky, you’ll be forced into each other’s company often. While jealousy is natural, you would be better off by making a good impression…”

x

 

Hibari Aiko’s feet nearly danced over the wooden floor of her kitchen, as she busied herself with making dinner for her family. For all of her talents in murder, extortion, blackmail, and torture, she didn’t have much of a skilled hand in the kitchen, and thus, dinner consisted of a simple omelette rice and plain tea. It would have been grander if Aiko had acquiesced to her husband’s request for a cook, but there were some aspects of civilian life that she had never been able to accustom herself too. 

 

One such custom was that it was the wife’s duty to prepare the meals. Aiko had been rather bemused by this, at first, since the least awful chef on the team got saddled with the duty in the Triads, but her mother-in-law was a rather traditional woman. And since Norio was depressingly insistent about not forcing his elderly- and perfectly healthy, Aiko would point out- mother to live alone…

 

“Aiko, dear, have you completed the dinner?” Isamu Hibari was the type of woman Aiko would have gone to great lengths to avoid, had they not lived in the same home, “I see that you’re making a plain omelette again. Honestly, is this what my son deserves to come home to, after a long day at work?”

 

“Norio loves my omelettes,” Aiko informed her, halfheartedly poking the fried egg. 

 

“Even then, he has had the same meal for the last two nights,” Isamu sniffed, “Perhaps if you delegated the responsibility to _ someone else _ , then Norio wouldn’t have to suffer through your attempts at making a proper meal. Why does he indulge your needless whims like this?”

 

“Sex?” Aiko offered, drawing far more pleasure from the old woman’s scandalized gasp then she probably should, “Have you seen Kyoya?” 

 

“Yes, he’s practicing those horrid  _ foreign _ martial arts that you’ve taught him,” Isamu spit back, “I understand that you may have been allowed to live wildly in China, but there are certain standards that you are expected to abide to, in Japan, as the wife of a high-ranking man, such as Norio. You cannot behave so crassly as to publicly mention carnal relations.”

 

The dark-haired woman shrugged, momentarily ignoring her lifetime of instruction in manners, to flash her mother-in-law, an entirely  _ improper _ grin. “You know the indulgence does go both ways.”

 

_ ‘In fact, that’s how Norio stopped me from kicking you out after the first night, _ ’ Aiko thought.

 

There was another cringing reaction, before the old woman rallied her spirits. It would have been admirable, if it was directed at literally anyone else. “What would poor Kyoya think if he saw this? He’ll choose his bride based on the type of woman his mother is, and, with your example, he’ll probably pick some foreign woman of loose morals-”

 

“I’m not sure about loose morals, but Tsunami Sawada has a half-Italian father,” Aiko interjected.

 

Isamu’s eyes bugged out. “The airhead mistress’  _ daughter _ ?”

 

Aiko nodded with clear satisfaction. “I arranged a playdate for them. I think they’ll become good friends, and perhaps Kyoya will want to pursue the bride idea in the future?”

 

It went without saying that what her Kyo-chan wanted, he would get. Kyoya Hibari had far too much of his mother in him, to accept anything else.

 

“He most certainly will not!” Isamu nearly shrieked, turning around and practically stomping out of the room, “I’ll have a talk with him about this!”

 

_ ‘And neatly push the idea into his head,’ _ Aiko quietly mused, ‘ _ Kyo-chan would hate to have his mother matchmake for him, but spiting his grandmother is an entirely different story, isn’t it? _ ’

 

Not that a mere romantic liaison was Hibari Aiko’s ultimate goal, though she would not be adverse to a marriage connection between Xianxia and Vongola. No, Aiko wanted something far more valuable and permanent for her cherished only son, and she wanted it for the most fundamental motherly instinct in the world: the desire to protect her child.

 

The underground criminal organizations consisted of a disproportionately powerful yet relatively tiny portion of the general population, and amongst them, less than a quarter of individuals ever became flame-active. Of that amount, less than 2% were Sky, and only half-again, were powerful enough to form a Guardian Bond. Of them, most could only procure two or three Guardians, because it took an immense quantity of raw power to fuel one bond, and for good reason.

 

The Dying Will Flames of the Sky were manifestations of one’s soul, and, a Guardian Bond, was, in the simplest terms, the closest humans had ever come to finding a soulmate. Without the romantic connotations, they were individuals that were so closely attuned to one another that their bodies, hearts, and minds were said to move in synchronicity during war and peace. They were instinctively able to support and protect one another, secure in the knowledge that someone existed that would be utterly loyal to them, and to whom they could be utterly loyal to in return. They were the very essence of a family, and, for her taciturn and withdrawn son, they could be his saving grace. 

 

At the center of this conflux of souls was the Sky, whom, due to the unique Harmony properties of their flame, were able to balance the convergence of soul flames. A Sky’s flames were an amalgam of each of the flame types, and, when properly bonded, they were able to funnel their power through the bonds, and purify their Guardian’s flames. This added a significant boost in power to the Guardians, and, in turn, identified separate strands of flames for a Sky. A bonded Lightning Guardian, for example, could receive the full cleansing and power boost of Sky flames, while returning lightning tinted flames to their Sky, to be used independently. Technically, this could be done without a Guardian bond, but the process became exponentially easier when a bond was in place.

 

Another advantage is that flame traits could travel from one Guardian, to the Sky, to another Guardian. If a non-Sun Guardian was bonded to a Sky with a Sun Guardian, for example, then they could call on the Activation process of the Sun flames to add a boost to their healing. It wouldn’t be as concentrated as if the actual Sun Guardian had utilized the flames, but as long as a Sky’s flames were filling the bond, then the traits would temporarily pass on.

 

Yet another advantage lied in the singular characteristic of Sky flames, that prevented a bonded Guardian from being susceptible to  _ another  _ Skies attributes. One could not hold two Guardian bonds at once, which is what Akio was depending on to protect her Kyo-chan from her brother’s fate.

 

There was little known about the infamous Arcobaleno of the mafia world, other than that they were absurdly powerful mafioso that had been reduced to the form of toddlers by some curse. As the sister of the Storm Arcobaleno, Aiko knew a little more their situation. Their curse was fastened on a flame colored pacifier that allowed them to identify each other, and bound the full scope of their powers. They were unable to resume adult form, and, due to the compressive nature of their bodies, the Arcobaleno would have short lives. Her beloved older brother would be lucky if he were able to attend his nephew’s wedding.

 

And when Fon was no longer the Storm Arcobaleno, then who would be pressed to service in his stead? 

 

Aiko knew that her older brother was deliberately selected for his powerful storm flames, and forced into an _ unnatural _ Guardian bond with Aria of the Giglio Nero Famiglia. She knew that her son had immensely powerful cloud and mist flames, that the Arcobaleno curse was often subjected to family members, and that her older brother had deliberately chosen to never have a child due to that. 

 

However, Aiko  _ did _ have a child. She had her beautiful Kyo-chan, and any being that could defeat her immensely powerful older brother, would cut her down like a straw doll in pursuit of Kyoya. Aiko had been quietly dreading the fate that possibly awaited her son, when news had trickled through the retired mafioso grapevine in Namimori.

 

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, the retired Swallow Assassin, had taken on a student, for the first time in… ever. Aiko’s curiosity had been roused, and the dark-haired woman had proceeded to do a little investigating. When she first saw Iemitsu Sawada lurking outside of TakeSushi, the woman had nearly had a heart attack, and rapidly fled the premises. Sawada wasn’t the most powerful Sky she had met, but she would much rather battle two Skies of greater caliber than face off against a man that used cunning and experience to supplement his average flame pools.

 

Aiko was grateful that she hadn’t given into her first instinct, because the discovery that she made had been her Kyo-chan’s saving grace. The Young Lion of Vongola had a little girl- only two years, her son’s junior- who was a  _ flame-active Sky _ . A four-year-old girl with flames that burned so brightly, that Aiko, a sensitive Mist, could immediately tell that she could support a Guardian bond. She could support more than one even, since Tsuyoshi- lucky bastard, that he was- had the good sense to throw his unbonded son in the girl’s direction. 

 

Finding an unbonded Sky of Tsunami Sawada’s caliber- in sleepy little Naminori, even- had been such a massive stroke of luck that Aiko visited the Hibari family shrine the next day, and made an offering that was ten times as generous as her next-greatest one. Then she had squared her shoulders, stalked into TakeSushi, and was again blindsided by Iemitsu’s wife- another Sky! With two active Skies for parents, it became easier to understand how Tsunami’s flame pools could be so large, and why Iemitsu would marry a foreign civilian waitress. 

 

Nana was unbonded, and, from maintaining an extended period of skin contact, Aiko could tell that their flames would mesh well. It would never be a full bond- Nana’s pools weren’t particularly large, since she had activated them so late in life, and young, adaptive souls were the ones to quickly form bonds- but Aiko could potentially draw some benefits from them. Besides, the Sawada woman made surprisingly good company, and tutoring her in minor Mist tricks could be a fun hobby.

 

Nana Sawada, or her dangerous husband, weren’t the focus of Aiko’s attention though. No, that was Tsunami Sawada, who the dark-haired woman was determined to introduce to Kyo-chan. Iemitsu’s ‘work emergency’ was a temporary setback to her plans, but Aiko was undeterred. Sooner or later, a playdate would be arranged, and Tsunami’s brightly burning flames would draw her son into its protective grasp. The little Yamamoto was slotted for the Rain position, but Kyoya had both Cloud and Mist flames, and Aiko was entirely confident that Tsunami’s flames would respond to that.

 

It had to. There was no other way that Hibari Aiko could protect her baby boy, so it simply had to.

 

x


End file.
